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WORKS BY 

Hnna Ikatbarine (Breen 


One of My Sons. 

The Leavenworth Case. 

A Strange Disappearance. 

The Sword of Damocles. 

Hand and Ring. 

The Mill Mystery- 
Behind Closed Doors. 

Cynthia Wakeham’s Money. 

Marked “Personal.” 

Miss Hurd : An Enigma. 

Dr. Izard. 

That Affair Next Door. 

Lost Man’s Lane. 

Agatha Webb. 

The Old Stone House. 

The Doctor, His Wife, and the Clock. 

X. Y. Z. A Detective Story. 

7 to i 2. A Detective Story. 

The Defence of the Bride, and Other Poems. 
Risifi’s Daughter. A Drama. 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

New York & London 


The Sword of Damocles 


A STORY OF NEW YORK LIFE 


BY 


ANNA KATHARINE GREEN 




AUTHOR OF “the LEAVENWORTH CASE,” “a STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE,” ET^C. 


“When all else fails love saves” 


G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 

Gbe Iknickerbocfcer press 

1909 , 

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LIBRARY Of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

ttii 5 Jfe 09 

Copyrisrhl Entry 

J^-S.iAoR 

OLASS O. AAti Ns. 

131 ^ 9 

COPY a! 

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Copyright, i88i, by G. P. Putnam’s Sons 


Copyright, 1909, by G. P. Putnam’s Sons 
In renewal of copyright originally registered in 1881. 
(Seventeenth Printing) 


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A 


Ube fknfcberbocher ipress, IRew IPorfi 


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i 

to 

MY FATHER 

I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 
&3 EXPRESSING SOME OF THE PRINCIPLES C* 
JUSTICE AND MERCY WHICH. 

RY PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE, HE HA? 
INSTILLED INTO MY 
BREAST 

FROM EARLY CHILDHOOD 


New York, AtrU , 1881 











































































* 
















































































































































































































CONTENTS 


BOOK I. 

TWO MEN. 

"mai-ter. page 

I. — A Wanderer ...... . i 

II. — A Discussion ... ... 3 

III. — A Mysterious Summons . . , - , 10 

IV. — Searchings „ . 22 

V. — The Rubicon ... . . 35 

VI. — A Hand Clasp , . 49 

VII. — Mrs. Sylvester . . . . . t . . 52 

VIII. — Shadows of the Past 61 

IX. — Paula 70 

X. — The Barred Door 87 

XI. — Miss Stuyvesant 96 

XII. — Miss Belinda Makes Conditions .... 109 

XIII. — The End of My Lady’s Picture . . . .122 


BOOK II. 

LIFE AND DEATH. 


XIV. — Miss Belinda has a Question to Decide . 138 

XV. — An Adventure — or Something More . 157 

XVI. — The Sword of Damocles 168 

XVII. — Grave and Gay 184 

XVIII. — In the Night Watches 200 

XIX. — A Day at the Bank 205 

XX. — The Dregs in the Cup 2T4 

XXI. — Departure 225 

XXII. — Hopgood . . . 237 


n 


CONTENTS , . 


BOOK III. 

THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 

CHAPTER. PAG* 

XXIII.— The Poem 251 

XXIV.— The Japha Mansion 262 

XXV.— Jacqueline 275 

XXVI. — A Man’s Justice and a Woman’s Mercy 289 

XXV11. — The Lone Watcher 3°5 

XXVIII. — Sunshine on the Hills 3 ia 

XXIX. — Mist in the Valley ... . 3 2 7 

BOOK IV. 

FROM A. TO Z. 

XXX. — Miss Belinda Presents Mr. Sylvester with a 

Christmas Gift . . . . . . 330 

XXXI.— A Question 341 

XXXII.— Full Tide 348 

XXXIII. — Two Letters 362 

XXXIV. — Paula Makes her Choice 374 

XXXV. — The Falling of the Sword 387 

XXXVI. — Morning 406 

XXXVII. — The Opinion of a Certain Noted Detective . 413 

XXXVIII. — Bluebeard’s Chamber 437 

XXXIX.— From A. to Z 44 2 

XL. — Half-past Seven .... . 473 

BOOK V. 

WOMAN’S LOVE. 

XLI. — The Work of an Hour 476 

XLII. — Paula Relates a Story She has IIe\rd . . 497 

XLIII. — Determination 505 

XLIV. — In Mr. Stuyvesant’s Parlors 509 

XLV. — “The Hour of Six is Sacred!” . . . .521 

XLVI. — The Man Cummins ....... 530 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


book i. 

TWO MEN. 

I. 

A WANDERER. 

“ There’s no such word.”— Bulwhr. 

A wind was blowing through the city. Not a gentle 
and balmy zephyr, stirring the locks on gentle ladies’ fore- 
heads and rustling the curtains in elegant boudoirs, but a 
chill and bitter gale that rushed with a swoop through nar- 
row alleys and forsaken courtyards, biting the cheeks of the 
few solitary wanderers that still lingered abroad in the dark- 
ened streets. 

In front of a cathedral that reared its lofty steeple in the 
midst of the squalid houses and worse than squalid saloons 
of one of the dreariest portions of the East Side, stood the 
form of a woman. She had paused in her rush down the 
narrow street to listen to the music, perhaps, or to catch a 
glimpse of the light that now and then burst from the widely 


2 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


swinging doors as they opened and shut upon some tard) 
worshipper. 

She was tall and fearful looking ; her face, when the 
light struck it, was seared and desperate ; gloom and deso- 
lation were written on all the lines of her rigid but wasted 
form, and when she shuddered under the gale, it was with 
that force and abandon to which passion lends its aid, and 
in which the soul proclaims its doom. 

Suddenly the doors before her swung wide and the 
preacher’s voice was heard : “ Love God and you will love 
your fellow-men. Love your fellow-men and you best show 
your love to God.” 

She heard, started, and the charm was broken. “ Love l* 
she echoed with a horrible laugh ; u there is no love in 
heaven or on earth ! ” 

And she swept by, and the winds followed and the dark- 
ness swallowed her up like a gulf. 


II. 


A DISCUSSION. 

•T«ung; men think old men fools, and old men know young men to be ao. 

Rw’s Proverbs. 

“And you are actually in earnest ? ” 

“lam.” 

The first speaker, a fine-looking gentleman 01 aome forty 
years of age, drummed with his fingers on the table before 
him and eyed the face of the young man who had repeated 
this assent so emphatically, with a certain close scrutiny in- 
dicative of surprise. 

“It is an unlooked-for move for you to make,” he re- 
marked at length. “ Your success as a pianist has been so 
decided, I confess I do not understand why you should de- 
sire to abandon a profession that in five years’ time has pro- 
cured you both competence and a very enviable reputation— 
for the doubtful prospects of Wall Street, too ! ” he added 
with a deep and thoughtful frown that gave still further im- 
pressiveness to his strongly marked features. 

The young man with a sweep of his eye over the luxur- 
ious apartment in which they sat, shrugged his shoulders 
with that fine and nonchalant grace which was one of his 
chief characteristics. 

“With such a pilot as yourself, I ought to be able to 


4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


steer clear of the shoals,” said he, a frank smile illumining 
l face that was rather interesting than handsome. 

The elder gentleman did not return the smile. Instead 
ol that he remained gazing at the ample coal-fire that 
burned in the grate before him with a look that to the 
young musician was simply inexplicable. “ You see the ship 
in haven,” he murmured at last ; “ but do not consider what 
storms it has weathered or what perils escaped. It is a voy- 
age I would encourage no son of mine to undertake.” 

“ Yet you are not the man to shrink from danger or to 
hesitate in a course you had marked out for yourself, be 
cause of the struggle it involved or the difficulties it pre 
sented ! ” the young man exclaimed almost involuntarily as 
his glance lingered with a certain sort of fascination on the 
powerful brow and steady if somewhat melancholy eye o’ 
his companion. 

“ No ) but danger and difficulty should not be sought, 
only subdued when encountered. If you were driven into 
this path, I should say, ‘ God pity you ! ’ and hold you ou* 
my hand to steady you along its precipices and above its 
sudden quicksands. But you are not driven to it. Your 
profession offers you the means of an ample livelihood while 
your good heart and fair talents insure you ultimate and 
honorable success, both in the social and artistic world. 
For a man of twenty-five such prospects are not common 
and he must be difficult to please not to be satisfied with 
them.” 

“ Yes,” said the other rising with a fitful movement but 


TWO MEN . 


5 


instantly sitting again ; “ I have nothing to complain of a? 
the world goes, only — Sir,” he exclaimed with a sudden de* 
termination that lent a force to his features they had hitheito 
lacked, “you speak of being driven into a certain course; 
what do you mean by that ? ” 

“ I mean,” returned the other ; “ forced by circum- 
stances to enter a line of business to which many others, if 
not all others are preferable.” 

“You speak strongly, speculation evidently has none of 
your sympathy, notwithstanding the favorable results which 
have accrued to you from it. But excuse me, by circum- 
stances you mean poverty, I suppose, and the lack of every 
other opening to wealth and position. You would not con- 
sider the desire to make a large fortune in a short space of 
time a circumstance of a sufficiently determining nature to 
reconcile you to my entering Wall Street speculation ? ” 

The elder gentleman rose, not as the other had done 
with a restless impulse quickly subsiding at the first excuse, 
but forcibly and with a feverish impatience that to appear- 
ance was somewhat out of proportion to the occasion. “ A 
large fortune in a short space of time ! ” he reiterated, paus- 
ing where he had risen with an eagle glance at his compan '« 
ion and a ringing tone in his voice that bespoke a deep but 
hitherto suppressed agitation. “ It is the alluring inscrip- 
tion above the pitfall into which many a noble youth has 
fallen; the battle-cry to a struggle that has led many a 
strong man the way of ruin ; the guide-post to a life whose 
feverish days and sleepless nights offer but poor compensa- 


6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


tion for the sudden splendors and as sudden reverses at- 
tached to it. I had rather you had accounted for this sud« 
den freak of yours by the strongest aspiration after power 
than by this cry of the merely mercenary man who in his 
desire to enjoy wealth, prefers to win it by a stroke cf luck 
rather than conquer it by a life of endeavor.” He s opped. 
“ I am aware that this tirade against the ladder by v hich I 
myself have risen so rapidly, must strike you as in ill-taste. 
But Bertram, I am interested in your welfare and im will- 
ing to incur some slight charge of inconsistency in order to 
insure it,” and here he turned upon his companion with that 
expression of extreme gentleness which lent such a peculiar 
charm to his countenance and explained perhaps the almost 
unlimited power he held over the hearts and minds o/ those 
who came within the circle of his influence. 

“You are very good, sir,” murmured his young friend, 
who to explain matters at once was in reality the nephew 
of this Wall Street magnate, though from the fact of his hav- 
ing taken another name on entering the musical profes- 
sion, was not generally known as such. “No one, not 
even my father himself, could have been more considerate 
and kind ; but I do not think you understand me, or rather 
I should say I do not think I have made myself perfectly 
intelligible to you. It is not for the sake of wealth itself or 
the eclat attending its possession that I desire an immediate 
fortune, but ‘that by means of it I' may attain another object 
dearer than wealth, and more precious than my career.” 

The elder gentleman turned quickly, evidently much 


TWO MEN . 


surprised, and cast a sudden inquiring glance at his nephew, 
who blushed with a modest ingenuousness pleasing to see in 
one so well accustomed to the critical gaze of his fellow-men. 

“Yes,” said he, as if in answer to that look, “I am in 
love.” 

A deep silence for a moment pervaded the apartment, 
a sombre silence almost startling to young Mandeville, who 
had expected some audible expression to follow this an- 
nouncement if only the good-natured “ Pooh ! pooh ! ” of 
the matured man of the world in the presence of ardent 
youthful enthusiasm. What could it mean ? Looking up 
he encountered his uncle’s eye fixed upon him with the last 
expression he could have anticipated seeing there, namely 
that of actual and unmistakable alarm. 

“You are displeased,” Mandeville exclaimed. “You 
have thought me proof against such a passion, or perhaps 
you do not believe in the passion itself !” Then with a sud- 
den remembrance of the notable if somewhat indolent loveli- 
ness of his uncle’s wife, blushed again at his unusual want 
of tact, while his eye with an involuntary impulse sought 
the large panel at their right where, in the full bloom of her 
first youth, the lady of the house smiled upon all beholders. 

“ I do not believe in that passion influencing a man’s 
career,” his uncle replied with no apparent attention to the 
other’s embarrassment. “A woman needs to be possessed of 
uncommon excellences to justify a man in leaving a path 
where success is certain, for one where it is not only doubt- 
ful but if attained must bring many a regret and heart-ache 


8 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES \ 


in its train. Beauty is not sufficient,” he went on with 
sterner and sterner significance, “ though it were of an an- 
gelic order There must be worth.” And here his mind’s 
eye if not that of his bodily sense, certainly followed the 
glance of his companion. 

“ I believe there is worth,” the young man replied ; “ cer- 
tainly, it is not her beauty that charms me. I do not even 
know if she is beautiful,” he continued. 

“ And you believe you love ! ” the elder exclaimed after 
another short pause 

There was so much of bitterness in the tone in which 
this was uttered, that Mandeville forgot its incredulity. “T 
think I must,” returned he with a certain masculine naivete 
not out of keeping with his general style of face and manner, 
“ else I should not be here. Three weeks ago I was satis- 
fied with my profession, if not enthusiastic over it ; to-day 
I ask nothing but to be allowed to enter upon some business 
that in three years’ time at least will place me where I can 
be the fit mate of any woman in this land, that is not worth 
her millions.” 

“ The woman for whom you have conceived this violent 
attachment is, then, above you in social position ? ” 

“Yes, sir, or so considered, which amounts to the same 
thing, as far as I am concerned.” 

“ Bertram, I have lived longer than you and have seen 
much of both social and domestic life, and I tell you no 
woman is worth such a sacrifice on the part of a man as you 
propose. No woman of to-day, I should say ; our mother* 


TWO MEN. 


9 


weie different. The very fact that this young lady of whom 
you speak, obliges you to change your whole course of life 
in order to obtain her, ought to be sufficient to prove to you 
— ’ He stopped suddenly, arrested by the young man’s 
lifted hand. “ She does not oblige you, then ? ” 

“ Not on her own account, sir. This lily,” lifting a vase 
of blossoms at his elbow, “ could not be more innocent of 
the necessities that govern the social circle it adorns, than 
the pure, single-minded girl to whom I have dedicated what 
is best and noblest in my manhood. It is her father — ” 

“ Ah, her father ! ” 

‘Yes, sir,” the young man pursued, more and more as- 
tonished at the other’s tone. “ He is a man who has a right 
to expect both wealth and position in a son-in-law. But 1 
see I shall have to tell you my story, sir. It is an uncom- 
mon one and I never meant that it should pass my lips, but 
if by its relation I can win your sympathy for a pure and 
noble passion, I shall consider the sacred seal of secrecy 
broken in a good cause. But,” said he, seeing his uncle cast 
a short and uneasy glance at the door, “ perhaps I am inter- 
rupting you. You expect some one ! ” 

“ No,” said his uncle, “ my wife is at church ; I am ready 
to listen.” 

The young man gave a hurried sigh, cast one look at his 
companion’s immovable face, as if to assure himself that the 
narrative was necessary, then leaned back and in a steady 
business-like tone that softened, however, as he proceeded, 
began to relate as follows ; 


III. 


A MYSTERIOUS SUMMONS. 

“ Without unspotted, innocent within, 

She feared no danger, for she knew no sin/’— Drydbh 

It was after a matinee performance at Hall some 

two weeks ago that I stopped to light a cigar in the small 
corridor leading to the back entrance. I was in a dissatis- 
fied frame of mind. Something in the music I had been 
playing or the manner in which it had been received had 
touched unwonted chords in my own nature. I felt alone. 
I remember asking myself as I stood there, what it all 
amounted to ? Who of all the applauding crowd would 
watch at my bedside through a long and harassing sickness, 
or lend their sympathy as they now yielded their praise, if 
instead of carrying off the honors of the day I had failed to 
do justice to my reputation. I was just smiling over the 
only exception I could make to this sweeping assertion, that 
of the pale-eyed youth you have sometimes observed dogg- 
ing my steps, when Briggs came up to me. 

“ There is a woman here, sir, who insists on seeing you ; 
she has been waiting through half the last piece. Shall I 
tell her you are coming out ? ” 

“ A woman ! ” exclaimed I, somewhat surprised, for my 
visit Drs are not apt to be of the gentler sex. 


TWO MEN ; 


1 1 


“ Yes sir, an old one. She seems very anxious to speak 
to you. I could not get rid of her no how.” 

I hurried forward to the muffled figure which he pointed 
out cowering against the wall by the door. “Well, my goo/ 
woman, what do you want ? ” I asked, bending towards her 
in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the face she held partly 
concealed from me. 

“ Are you Mr. Mandeville ? ” she inquired in a tone 
shaken as much by agitation as age. 

I bowed. 

“ The one who plays upon the piano ? * 

“The very same,” I declared. 

“You are not deceiving me,” she went on, looking up 
with a marked anxiety plainly visible through her veil. “I 
haven’t seen you play and couldn’t contradict you, but — ” 

“ Here ! ” said I calling to Briggs with a kindly look at 
the old woman, “ help me on with my coat, will you ? ” 

The “ Certainly, Mr. Mandeville,” with which he com- 
plied seemed to reassure her, and as soon as the coat was on 
and he was gone, she grasped me by the arm and drew my 
ear down to her mouth. 

“ If you are Mr. Mandeville, I have a message for you. 
This letter,” slipping one into my hand, “ is from a young 
lady, sir. She bade me give it to you myself. She is younp 
and pretty,” she pursued as she saw me make a movement 
of distaste, “ and a lady. We depend upon your honor, sir.” 

I acknowledge that my first impulse was to fling her back 
the note and leave the building; I was in no mood for tri- 


12 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


fling, my next to burst into a laugh and politely hand hei to 
the door, my last and best, to open the poor little note and 
see for myself whether the writer was a lady or not. Pro- 
ceeding to the door, for it was already twilight in the dim 
passage way, I tore open the envelope which was dainty 
enough and took out a sheet of closely written paper. A 
certain qualm of conscience assailed me as I saw the deli- 
cate chirography it disclosed and I was tempted to thrust 
it back and return it unread to the old woman now trem- 
bling in the corner. But curiosity overcame my scruples, 
and hastily unfolding the sheet I read these lines : 

“ I do not know if what I do is right ; I am sure aunty 
would not say it was ; but aunty never thinks anything is 
right but going to church and reading the papers to papa. 
I am just a little girl who has heard you play, and who 
would think the world was too beautiful, if she could hear 
you say to her just once, some of the kind things you must 
speak every day to the persons who know you. I do not 
expect very much — you must have a great many friends, 
and you would not care for me — but the least little look, 
if it were all my own, would make me so happy and so 
proud I should not envy anybody in the world, unless it 
was some of those dear friends who see you always. 

“ I do not come and hear you play often, for aunty thinks 
music frivolous, but I am always hearing you no matter where 
I am, and it makes me feel as if I were, far away from every- 
body, in a beautiful land all sunshine and flowers. But nurse 


TWO MEN. 


13 


says I must not write so much or you will not read it, so I 
will stop here. But if you 7 vould come it would make some 
one happier than even your beautiful music could do.” 

That was all ; there was neither name nor date. A child’s 
epistle, written with a woman’s circumspection. With min 
gled sensations of doubt and curiosity I turned back to the 
old woman who stood awaiting me with eager anxiety. 

“ Was this written by a child or woman ? ” I asked, 
meeting her eye with as much sternness as I could assume. 

“ Don’t ask me — don’t ask me anything. I have prom- 
ised to bring you if I could, but I cannot answer any ques- 
tions.” 

I stepped back with an incredulous laugh. Here was 
evidently an adventure. “ You will at least tell me where 
the young miss lives,” said I, “before I undertake to fulfil 
her request.” 

She shook her head. “ I have a carriage at the door, 
sir,” said she. “All you have got to do is to get into it 
with me and we shall soon be at the house.” 

I looked from her face to the letter in my hand, and 
knew not what to think. The spirit of simplicity and in- 
genuousness that marked the latter was scarcely in keeping 
with this air of mystery. The woman observing my hesita- 
tion moved towards the door. 

‘‘Will you come, sir?” she inquired. “ You will not 
regret it. Just a moment’s talk with a pretty young drl— 
surely — ” 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


l 4 


“ Hush,” said I, hearing a hasty step behind me. And 
sure enough just then my intimate friend Selby came along 
and grasping me by the arm began dragging me towards the 
door. “You are my property,” said he. ** I’ve promised, on 
my word of honor as a gentleman and a musician, to bring 
you to the Handel Club this afternoon. I was afraid you 
had escaped me, but — ” Here he caught sight of the small 
black figure halting in the doorway, and paused. 

“ Who’s this ? ” said he. 

I hesitated. For one instant the scale of my whole 
future destiny hung trembling in the balance, then the 
demon of curiosity got the better of my judgment, and with 
the rather unworthy consideration that I might as well enjoy 
my youth while I could, I released myself from my friend’s 
detaining hand and replied, “ Some one with whom I have 
very particular business. I cannot go to the Handel Club 
to-day, ” and darting out without further delay, I rejoined 
the old woman on the sidewalk. 

Without a word she drew me towards a carriage I now 
observed standing by the curbstone a few feet to the left. 
As I got in I remember pausing a moment to glance at the 
man on the box, but it was too dark for me to perceive any- 
thing but the fact that he was dressed in livery More and 
more astonished I leaned back in my seat and endeavored to 
open conversation with my mysterious companion. But it 
did not work. Without being actually rude, she parried 
my questions in such a way that by the end of five minutes 
I found myself as far from any knowledge o< the real situa- 


TWO MEN. 


IS 

tion of the case as when I started. I therefore desisted from 
any further attempts and turned to look out, when I made a 
discovery that for the first time awoke some vague feelings of 
alarm within my breast. This was, that the window was not 
covered by a curtain as I supposed, but by closed blinds which 
when I tried to raise them resisted all my efforts to do so. 

“ It is very close here," I muttered, in some sort of ex- 
cuse for this display of uneasiness. “ Cannot you give us a 
little air ? ” But my companion remained silent, and I felt 
ashamed to press the matter though I took advantage of the 
darkness to remove to a safer place a roll of money which I 
had about me. 

Yet I was far from being really anxious, and did not 
once meditate backing out of an adventure that was at once 
so piquant and romantic. For by this time I became con- 
scious from the sounds about me that we had left the side 
street for one of the avenues and were then proceeding 
rapidly up town. Listening, I heard the roll of omnibuses 
and the jingle of car-bells, which informed me that we were 
in Broadway, no other avenue in the city being traversed by 
both these methods of conveyance. But after awhile the 
jingle ceased and presently the livelier sounds of constant 
commotion inseparable from a business thoroughfare, and 
we entered what I took to be Madison Avenue at Twenty- 
third Street. 

Instantly I made up mind to notice every turn of the 
carriage, that I might fix to some degree the locality towards 
which we were tending. But it turned but once and that 


i6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


after a distance of steady travelling that quite overthrew any 
calculation I was able to make at that time of the probable 
number of streets we had passed since entering the avenue. 
Having turned, it went but about half a block to the left 
when it stopped. “I shall see where I am when I get out/’ 
thought I ; but in this I was mistaken. 

First we had stopped in the middle of a block of houses 
built, as far as I could judge, all after one model. Next the 
fact of the front door Deing open, though I saw no one in 
the hall, somewhat disconcerted me, and I hurried across 
the sidewalk and up the stoop in a species of maze hardly to 
be expected from one of my naturally careless disposition. 
The next moment the door closed behind me and I found 
myself in a well-lighted hall whose quiet richness betokened 
it as belonging to a private dwelling of no mean pretensions 
to elegance. 

This was the first surprise I received. 

“ Follow me,” said the old woman, hurrying me down the 
hall and into a small room at the end. “ The young lady 
will be here in a moment,” and without lifting her veil or 
affording me the least glimpse of her features, she retired, 
leaving me to face the situation before me as best I might. 

It was anything but a pleasant one as it appeared to me 
at that moment, and for an instant I seriously thought of 
retracing my steps and leaving a domicile into which I had 
been introduced in such a mysterious manner. Then the 
quiet aspect of the room, which though sparsely furnished 
with a piano and chairs was still of an order rarely seen out 


TWO MEN. 


17 

of gentlemen’s houses, struck my imagination and reawak- 
ened my curiosity, and nerving myself to meet whatever in» 
terview might be accorded me, I waited. It was only five 
minutes by the small clock ticking on the mantel-piece but 
it seemed an hour before I heard a timid step at the door, 
and saw it swing slowly open, disclosing — well, I did not 
stop to inquire whether it was a child or a woman. I merely 
saw the shrinking modest form, the eager blushing face, and 
bowed almost to the ground in a sudden reverence for the 
sublime innocence revealed to me. Yes, it did not take a 
second look to read that tender countenance to its last guile- 
less page. Had she been a woman of twenty-five I could 
not have mistaken her expression of pure delight and timid 
interest, but she was only sixteen, as I afterwards learned, 
and younger in experience than in age. 

Closing the door behind her, she stood for a moment with- 
out speaking, then with a deepening of the blush which was 
only a child’s embarrassment in the presence of a stranger, 
looked up and murmured my name with a word or so of 
grateful acknowledgment that would have called forth a 
smile on my lips if I had not been startled by the sudden 
change that passed over her features when she met my eyes. 
Was it that. I showed my surprise too plainly, or did my 
admiration manifest itself in my gaze ? an admiration great 
as it was humble, and which was already of a nature such 
as I had never before given to girl or woman. Whatever 
it was, she no sooner met my look than she paused, trembled, 
and started back with a confused murmur, through which J 


i8 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


plainly heard her whisper in a low distressed tone, “ Oh, 
what have I done ! ” 

“ Called a good friend to your side,” said I in the frank, 
brotherly way I thought most likely to reassure her. “ Do 
not be alarmed, I am only too happy to meet one who evi- 
dently enjoys music so well.” 

But the hidden chord of womanhood had been struck in 
the child’s soul, and she could not recover herself. For an 
instant I thought she would turn and flee, and struck as I 
was with remorse at my reckless invasion of this uncontam- 
inated temple, I could not but admire the spirited picture 
she presented as, with form half turned and face bent back, 
she stood hesitating on the point of flight. 

I did not try to stop her. “ She &na 1 follow her own im- 
pulse,” said I to myself, but I felt a t igue relief that was 
deeper than I imagined, when she suddenly relinquished her 
strained attitude, and advancing a step or so began to mur- 
mur : 

“ I did not know — I did not realizes I was doing what 
was so very wrong. Young ladies do not ask gentlemen 
to come and see them, no matter how much they desire to 
make their acquaintance. I see it now ; I did not before. 
Will you — can you forgive me ? ” 

I smiled ; I could not help it I could have taken her 
to my heart and soothed her as I would a child, but 
the pallor of womanhood, which had replaced the blush 
of the child, awed me and made my own words come hesb 
tatingly. 


J WU MEN. 


19 


“ Forgive you ? You must forgive me ! It was as wrong 
for me,” I went on with a wild idea of not mincing matters 
with this pure soul, “ to obey your innocent request, as it 
was for you to make it. I am a man of the world and kno* 
its convenances j you are very young.” 

“ I am sixteen,” she murmured. 

The abrupt little confession, implying as it did her de- 
termination not to accept any palliation of her conduct which 
it did not deserve, touched me strangely. “ But very young 
for that,” I exclaimed. 

" So aunty says, but no one can ever say it any more,” 
she answered. Then with a sudden gush, “We shall never 
see each other again, and you must forget the motherless girl 
who has met you in a way for which she must blush through 
life. It is no excuse,” she pursued hurriedly, “ that nurse 
thought it was all right. She always approves of everything 
I do or want to do, especially if it is anything aunt would 
be likely to forbid. I have been spoiled by nurse.” 

“ Was nurse the woman who came for me ? ” I asked. 

She nodded her head with a quick little motion inexpres- 
sibly charming. “ Yes, that was nurse. She said she would 
do it all, I need only write the note. She meant to give me 
a pleasure, but she did wrong.” 

“ Yes,” thought I, “ how wrong you little know or real- 
ize. * But I only said, “ You must be guided by some one 
with more knowledge of the world after this. “ Not,” I made 
haste to add, struck by the misery in her child eyes, “ that 
any harm has been done. You could not have appealed to 


20 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


the friendship of any one who would hold you in greatei 
respect than I. Whether we meet again or not, my memory 
of you shall be sweet and sacred, I promise you that.” 

But she threw out her hand with a quick gesture. “ No, 
do not remember me. My only happiness will lie in the 
thought you have forgotten.” And the last remnants of the 
child soul vanished in that hurried utterance. “You must 
go now,” she continued more calmly. “ The carriage that 
brought you is at the door ; I must ask you to take it back 
to your home.” 

“ But,” I exclaimed with a wild and unbearable sense of 
sudden loss as she laid her hand on the knob of the door, 
“ are we to part like this ? Will you not at least trust me 
with your name before I go ? ” 

Her hand dropped from the knob as if it had been hot 
steel, and she turned towards me with a slow yearning mo- 
tion that whatever it betokened set my heart beating vio- 
lently. “ You do not know it, then ? ” she inquired. 

“ I know nothing but what t*his little note contains,” 1 
replied, drawing her letter from my pocket. 

“ Oh, that letter ! I must have it,” she murmured; then, 
as I stepped towards her, drew back and pointing to the 
table said, “ Lay it there, please.” 

I did so, whereupon something like a smile crossed her 
lips and I thought she was going to reward me with her 
name, but she only said, “ I thank you ; now you know noth- 
ing ; ” and almost before I realized it she had opened the 
door and stepped into the hall 


TWO MEN. 


21 


As I made haste to follow her, the sound of a low 
" He is a gentleman, he will ask no questions,” struck my 
ear, and looking up, I saw her just leaving the side of the 
old nurse who stood evidently awaiting me half down the 
hall. Bowing with formal ceremony, I passed her by and 
proceeded to the front door. As I did so I caught one 
glimpse of her face. It had escaped from all restraint and 
the expression of the eyes was overpowering. I subdued 
a wild impulse to leap back to her side, and stepped at once 
over the threshold. The nurse joined me, and together we 
went down the stoop to the street. 

“ May I inquire where you wish to be taken ? ” she asked. 

I told her, and she gave the order to the coachman, to- 
gether with a few words I did not hear ; then stepping back 
she waited for me to get in. There was no help for it. I 
gave one quick look behind me, saw the front door close, 
realized how impossible it would ever be for me to recognize 
the house again, and placed my foot on the carriage step. 
Suddenly a bright idea struck me, and hastily dropping my 
cane I stepped back to pick it up. As I did so I pulled out 
a bit of crayon I chanced to have in my pocket, and as I 
stooped, chalked a small cross on the curbstone directly in 
front of the house, after which I recovered my cane, uttered 
some murmured word of apology, jumped into the carriage 
and was about to shut the door, when the old nurse stepped 
in after me and quietly closed it herself. By the pang that 
shot through my breast as the carriage wheels left the house, 
I knew that for the first time in my life, I lozed. 


IV. 


SEARCHINGS. 

“ Patience, and shuffle the cards.”— Ckrvahtks. 

If I had expected anything from the presence in thi 
carriage of the woman who had arranged this interview, I 
was doomed to disappointment. Reticent before, she was 
absolutely silent now, sitting at my side like a grim statue 
or a frozen image of watchfulness, ready to awake and stop 
me if I offered to open the door or make any other move 
indicative of a determination to know where I was, or in 
what direction I was going. That her young mistress in 
the momentary conversation they had held before our de- 
parture had succeeded in giving her some idea of the 
shame with which she had felt herself overwhelmed and 
her present natural desire for secrecy, I do not doubt, but I 
think now, as I thought then, that the unusual precautions 
taken both at that time and before, to keep me in igno* 
ance of the young lady’s identity, were due to the elderly 
woman’s own consciousness of the peril she had invoked 
in yielding to the wishes of her young and thoughtless mis- 
tress ; a theory which, if true, argues more for the mind than 
the conscience of this mysterious woman. However, it is 
with facts we have to {leal, and you will be more interested 


TWO MEN. 


23 


in learning what I did, than what I thought during that short 
ride in perfect darkness. 

The mark which I had left on the curbstone behind me 
sufficiently showed the nature of my resolve, and when we 
made the first turn at the end of the block I leaned 
back in my seat and laying my finger on my wrist, began to 
count the pulsations of my blood. It was the only device that 
suggested itself, by which I might afterward gather some ap- 
proximate notion of the distance we travelled in a straight 
course down town. I had just arrived at the number seven 
hundred and sixty-two, and was inwardly congratulating my- 
self upon this new method of reckoning distance, when the 
wheels gave a lurch and we passed over a car track. In- 
stantly all my fine calculations fell to the ground. We were 
not in Madison Avenue, as I supposed ; could not be, since 
no track crosses that avenue below Fifty-ninth Street, and 
we were proceeding on as we could not have done had we 
gained the terminus of the avenue at Twenty-third Street. 
Could it be that the carriage had not been turned around 
while I was in the house, and that we had come back by way 
of Fifth Avenue ? I could not remember — in fact, the more 
I tried to think which way the horses’ heads were directed 
when we went into the house, the more I was confused. But 
presently I considered that wherever we were, we certainly 
had not passed over the narrow strip of smooth pavement in 
front of the Worth monument, and therefore could not have 
reached Twenty-third Street by way of Fifth Avenue. We 
must be up town, and that track we crossed must have been 


24 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


at Fifty-ninth Street. And soon, as if to assure me of this, we 
took a turn, quickly followed at a block’s length by another, 
after which I had no difficulty in recognizing the smooth 
pavement of the entrance to the Park or the roll down Fifth 
\ venue afterwards. “ They have thought to confuse me by 
an extra mile or so of travel,” thought I, with some compla- 
cency, “but the streets of New York are too simply laid out 
to lend themselves to any such easy mode of mystification.” 
Yet I have thought since then how, with a smarter man on 
the box, the affair might have been conducted so as to have 
baffled the oldest citizen in any attempt at calculation. 

When we stopped in front of the Albemarle I quietly 
thanked the woman who had conducted me, and stepped tc 
the ground. Instantly the door shut behind me, the carriage 
drove off, and I was left standing there like a man suddenly 
awakened from a dream. 

Entering my hotel, I ordered supper, thinking that the 
very practical occupation of eating would serve to divert my 
mind into its ordinary channels. But the dream, if dream it 
was, had made too vivid an impression to be shaken off so 
easily. It followed me to the hall in the evening and min- 
gled with every chord I struck. 

I could scarcely sleep that night for thinking of the sweet 
child’s face that had blossomed into a woman’s before my 
eyes, and what a woman ! With the first hint of daylight I 
rose, and as soon as it was in any degree suitable to be out, 
hired a cab and proceeded to the corner of Fifty-ninth Street 
and Madison Avenue, where, according to my calculations 


TWO MEN. 


25 


of the evening before, we had crossed the car track which 
had first interrupted me in that very original method of com* 
puting distance of which I have already spoken, a method by 
the way, which you must acknowledge is an improvement on 
the boy’s plan of finding his way back from the woods by 
means of the bread-crumbs he had scattered behind him, 
forgetting that the birds would eat up his crumbs and leave 
him without a clew. Bidding the driver proceed at the ordi- 
nary jog trot down the avenue, I laid my finger on my wrist, 
and counted each throb of my pulse till I had reached the 
magical number seven hundred and sixty-two. Then put- 
ting my head out of the window, I bade him stop. We were 
in the middle of a block, but that did not disconcert me. I 
had not expected to gain more than an approximate idea of 
the spot where we had first turned into the avenue, it being 
impossible to regulate the horses’ pace so as to tally with 
that taken by the span of the night before, even if the pulsa- 
tions in my wrist were to be absolutely relied upon. Noting 
the streets between which we had paused, I bade the driver 
to turn down one and come back by the other, occupying 
myself in the meanwhile, in searching the curbstone for the 
small mark I had left in front of her door the night before. 
But though we drove slowly and I searched carefully, not a 
trace did I perceive of that telltale sign, and forsaking those 
two streets, I ordered my obedient Jehu to try the two out- 
lying ones below and above. He did so, and I again con- 
sulted the curbstone, but with no better success. No mari 
or remnants of a mark was to be found anywhere. Nor 


26 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


though we travelled through three or four other streets lr 
the same way, did we come upon any clew liable to assist 
me in my search. Clean discouraged and somewhat out of 
temper with myself for my pusillanimity of the evening be- 
fore in not having braved the anger of my companion by 
opening the carriage door at the first corner and leaping out, 
I commanded to be taken back to the hotel, where for a 
whole miserable day I racked my brain with devices for ac- 
quiring the knowledge I so much desired. The result was 
futile, as you may imagine ; nor will I stop to recount the 
various expedients to which I afterwards resorted in my 
vain attempt to solve the mystery of this young girl’s iden- 
tity. 

Enough that they all failed, even the very promising one 
of searching the various photographic establishments of the 
city, for the valuable clew which her picture would give me. 
And so a week passed. 

“ It is time this mad infatuation was at an end,” said I to 
myself one morning as I sat down to write a letter. “ There 
is no hope of my ever seeing her again, and I am but fritter- 
ing away the best emotions of my life in thus indulging in 
a dream that is not the prelude to a reality.” But in spite 
of the wise determination thus made, I soon found my 
thoughts recurring to their old channel, and seized with 
sudden impatience at my evident weakness, took up the 
tetter I had been writing and was about to read it, when to 
my great amazement I perceived that instead of inditing the 
usual words of a business communication, I had been en« 


TWO MEN. 


27 


gaged in scribbling a certain number up and down the page 
and even across the bottom where my signature should have 
been. 

u Am I a fool ? ” I exclaimed, and was about to tear the 
sheet in two, when glancing again at the number, which was 
a simple thirty-six, I asked myself where I had got those 
especial figures. Instantly there arose before my mind’s eye 
the vision of a brown-stone front with its vestibule and door. 
It was, then, the number of a house ; but what house ? a 
chateau en Espagne or a bona fide New York dwelling, which 
for some reason had unconsciously impressed itself upon my 
memory ? I could not answer. There on the page was the 
number thirty-six, and equally plain in my mind was the 
look of the brown-stone front to which that number be- 
longed — and that was all. 

But it was enough to awaken within me the spirit of 
inquiry. The few houses thus numbered in that quarter of 
the city where I had lately been, were not so hard to find 
but that a morning given to the business ought to satisfy me 
whether the vision in my mind had its basis in reality. Tak- 
ing a cab, I rode up town and into that region of streets I 
had traversed so carefully a week before. For I was as- 
sured that if the impression had been made by an actual 
dwelling it had been done at that time. Following the same 
course I then took, I consulted the appearance of the various 
houses to which that number was assigned. The first was 
built of brick ; that was not it. The next one had pillars to 
^e vestibule ; and that was not it. The third, to use an 


28 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Irish bull, was no house at all, but a stable, while the fourth 
was an elegant structure of much more pretension than the 
plain and simple front I had in my mind or memory. I was 
about to utter a curse upon my folly and go home, when 1 
remembered there was yet a street or two taken in my zig- 
zag course of the week before, which I had not yet tested. 
“ Might as well be thorough,” I muttered, and bade my 
driver proceed down Street. 

What was there in its aspect that dimly excited me at 
the first glance ? A dim remembrance, a certain ghostly as- 
surance that we had reached the right spot ? As we neared 
the number I sought, I could not suppress an exclamation 
of surprise. For there before me to its last detail, stood the 
house which involuntarily presented itself to my mind, when 
my eye first fell upon that mysterious number scribbled at 
the foot of the page I was writing. 

It was, then, no chimera of an overwrought brain, this 
* :>ion of a house-front which had been haunting me, but a 
distinct remembrance of an actual dwelling seen by me in 
my former journey through this street. But why this house- 
front above all others ; what was there in it to make such 
an impression ? Looking at it I could not determine, but 
after we had passed, something, I cannot tell what, brought 
back another remembrance, trivial in itself, but yet a link in 
the chain that was destined sooner or later to lead rre out 
of the maze into which I had stumbled. It was merely this; 
that as I rode along the streets on that memorable morning, 
searching for that mark on the curbstone from which I hoped 


TWO MEN . 


29 


*0 much, I had come upon a spot where the pavement had 
been freshly washed. With that unconscious action of the 
brain with which we are familiar, I looked at the sidewalk a 
moment, running even then with the water that had been 
cast upon it, and then gave a quick glance at the house. 
That glance, account for it as you will, took in the picture 
before it as the camera catches the impression of a likeness, 
and though in another instant I had forgotten the whole oc- 
currence, it needed but a certain train of thought or perhaps 
a certain state of emotion to revive it again. 

A noble cause for such an act of unconscious cerebration 
you will say, a freshly washed pavement : Le jeu ne faut pas j/ 
la chandelle. And so I thought too, or would have thought 
if I had not been so interested in the pursuit in which I was 
engaged, and if the idea had not suggested itself that water 
and a broom might obliterate chalk-marks from curbstones, 
and that the imps that preside over our mental forces would 
not indulge in such a trick at my expense unless the play was 
worth the candle. At all events, from the moment I made 
this discovery, I fixed my faith on that house as the one 
which held the object of my search, and though I contented 
myself with merely noting the number of the street as we 
left it, I none the less determined to pursue my investiga- 
tions, till I had learned beyond the possibility of a doubt 
whether my conjectures were not true. 

A perseverance worthy of a better cause you will say but 
you are no longer twenty-five and under the influence of 
your first passion. I own I was astonished at myself and 


30 


jrtE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


frequently paused in the pursuit I had undertaken, to ask 
if I were the same person who but a fortnight before laughed 
at the story of a man who had gone mad over the body of 
an unknown woman he had saved from a wreck only to find 
her dead in his arms. 

The first thing I did was to ascertain the name of the gen- 
tleman occupying the house I have specified. It was that of 
one of our wealthiest and most respectable bankers, a name as 
well known in the city — as your own for instance. This was 
somewhat disconcerting, but with a dogged resolution some- 
what foreign to my natural disposition, I persevered in my 
investigations, and learning in the next breath that the gen- 
tleman alluded to was a widower with an only child, a young 
daughter of about sixteen or so, recovered my assurance, 
though not my equanimity. Seeking out my friend Farrar, 
who as you know is a walking gazette of New York society, 
I broached the subject of Mr. — excuse me if I do not 
mention his name ; allow me to say, Preston’s domestic af- 
fairs, and learned that Miss Preston, “ A naive little piece for 
so great an heiress,” I remember Farrar called her, had left 
town within a day or two for a visit to some friends in Balti- 
more. “ I happen to know,” said he with that careless sweep 
of his hand at which you have so often laughed, “ because 
my friend Miss Forsyth met her at the depot. She was in- 
tending to be gone — two weeks, I think she said. Do you 
know her ? ” 

That last question sprung upon me unawares, and 1 
am afraid I blushed. “ No,” I returned, * I have not that 


TWO MEAT. 


3 


Aonor but an acquaintance of mine has — well — has met hei 
and — ” 

“ I see, I see,” broke in Farrar with his most disagreeable 
smile. Then with a short laugh, meant to act as a warning, I 
suppose, added as he walked off, “ I hope your friend is in 
fair circumstances and not connected with the fine arts 
Music is Mr. Preston’s detestation, while Miss Preston though 
too young to be much sought after yet, will in two years’ 
time have the pick of the city at her command.” 

“ So ! ” thought I to myself ; “ my little innocent charmer 
is an embryo aristocrat, eh ? Well then, I was a greater fool 
than I imagined.” And I walked out of the hotel where I 
had met Farrar, with the very sensible conclusion to drop a 
subject that promised nothing but disappointment. 

But the fates were against me, or the good angels perhaps, 
and at the next corner I met an old acquaintance, the very 
opposite of Farrar in character, who with a long love story 
of his own fired my imagination to such an extent that in 
spite of myself I turned down Street, and was proceed- 

ing to pass her house, when suddenly the thought struck me, 
“ How do I know that this unapproachable daughter of one 
of our most prominent citizens is one and the same person 
with my dainty little charmer. Widowers with young daugh- 
ters are not so rare in this great city that I need consider the 
question as decided, because by a half superstitious freak of 
my own I have settled upon this house as the one I was in 
the other night. My inamorata may be the offspring of a 
musr’w for all I know.” 4 "d inflamed at the thought of 


32 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


this possibility — I remembered the piano, you see — I gave 
to the winds all my fine resolutions and only asked how 
I could determine for once and all, whether I had ever 
crossed the threshold of the house before me. Some men 
would have run up the stoop, rung the bell and asked to 
see Mr. Preston on some pretended business he could 
easily conjure up to suit the occasion, but my face is too 
well known for me to risk any such attempt, besides I was 
too anxious to win the confidence of the young girl to 
shock her awakened sense of propriety by seeming to seek 
her where she did not wish to be found. And yet I must 
enter that house and see for myself if it was the one that 
held her on that memorable evening. 

Pondering the question, I looked back at the door so 
obstinately closed against my curiosity, when to my satisfac 
tion and delight it suddenly opened and a man stepped out 
whom I instantly recognized as a business agent for one of 
the largest piano-forte manufactories in the city. “The 
heavens smile upon my enterprise/' thought I, and waited foi 
the man to come up with me. He was not only a friend of 
mine but largely indebted to me in various ways, so that I 
knew I had only to urge a request for it to be immediately 
granted, and that, too, without any questions or gossip. 

You will not be interested in anything but the result, 
which was somewhat out of the usual course, and may there-' 
fore shock you. But you must remember that I am telling 
you of matters which young men usually keep to themselves, 
and that whatever I did, was accomplished in a spirit o ‘ 


TWO MEN. 


33 


respect only a shade less constraining in its power than the 
love that was at once my impelling force, and my constant 
embarrassment. 

To come, then, to the point, a piano was to be set up in 
hat house on that very day, Mr. Preston having yielded to 
the solicitations of his daughter for a new instrument. My 
friend was to be engaged in the transfer, and at my solicita 
tion for leave to assist in the operation, gave his consent in 
perfect confidence as to my possessing good and sufficient 
reasons for such a remarkable request, and appointed the 
hour at which I was to meet him at the ware-rooms. 

Behold me, then, at half-past two that afternoon, assisting 
with my own hands in carrying a piano up the stoop of that 
house which, four hours before, I had regarded as unap- 
proachable. Dressed in a workman’s blouse and with my 
hair well roughened under a rude cap that effectually dis- 
guised me, I advanced with but little fear of detection. And 
yet no sooner had I entered the house and seen at a glance 
that the aspect of the hall coincided with my rather vague 
remembrance of that through which I had been ushered a 
week before, than I. was struck by a sudden sense of my sit- 
uation, and experiencing that uncomfortable consciousness 
of self-betrayal, which a blush always gives a man, stum 
bled forward under my heavy burden, feeling as if a thou 
sand eyes were fixed upon me and my cherished secret, in- 
stead of the two sharp but totally unsuspicious orbs of the 
elderly matron that surveyed us from the top of the banis- 
ters. u Be careful *here, you ’ll knock a hole through tha^ 


34 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


glass door ! ” though a natural cry under the circumstances, 
struck on my ears with the force and mysterious power of a 
secret warning, and when after a moment of blind advance 
T suddenly lifted my eyes and found myself in the little room, 
which like a silhouette on a white ground, stood out in my 
memory in distinct detail as the spot where I had first heard 
my own heart beat, I own that I felt my hands slipping from 
my burden, and in another moment had disgraced my char- 
acter of a workman if I had not caught the sudden ring of a 
well known voice in the hall, as nurse answered from above 
some question propounded by the elderly lady with the 
piercing eyes. As it was, I recovered myself and went 
through my duties as promptly and deftly as if my heart did 
not throb with memories that each passing hour and event 
only served to hallow to my imagination. 

At length the piano was duly set up and we turned to 
leave. Will you think I am too trivial in my details if I tell 
you that I lingered behind the rest and for an instant let my 
hand with all its possibilities for calling out a soul from that 
dead instrument, lie a moment on the keys over which hci 
dainty fingers were so soon to traverse. 


V. 


THE RUBICON. 

“ I’ll stake my life upon her faith.”— O thello. 

Once convinced of the identity of my sweet young 
friend with the Miss Preston at whose feet a two year hence, 
the wealth and aristocracy of New York would be kneeling, 
I drew back from further effort as having received a damper 
to my presumptious hopes that would soon effectually stifle 
them. Everything I heard about the family — and it seemed 
as if suddenly each chance acquaintance that I met had 
something to say about Mr. Preston either as a banker or a 
man, only served to confirm me in this view. “ He is a 
money worshipper,” said one. “ The bluest of blue Presby- 
terians,” declared another. “ The enemy of presumption 
and anything that looks like an overweening confidence in 
one’s own worth or capabilities,” remarked a third. “ A 
man who would beggar himself to save the honor of a cor- 
poration with which he was concerned,” observed a fourth 
“ but who would not invite to his table the most influential 
man connected with it if that man was unable to trace his 
family back to the old Dutch settlers to which Mr. Preston's 
own ancestors belonged.” 

This latter statement I have no doubt was exaggerated 
for I myself have seen him at dinners where half the gentle- 
men who lifted the wine glass were self-made in every sense. 


36 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


of the term. But it showed the bent of his mind and it waj 
a bent that left me entirely out of the sweep of his acquaint- 
anceship much less that of his exquisite daughter, the pride 
of his soul if not the jewel of his heart. 

But when will a man who has seen or who flatters him 
aelf that he has seen in the eyes of the woman he admires, 
the least spark of that fire which is consuming his own soul, 
pause at an obstacle which after all has its basis simply 
in circumstances of position or will. By the time the two 
weeks of her expected absence had expired, I had settled it 
in my own mind that I would see her again and if I found 
the passing caprice of a child was likely to blossom into the 
steady regard of a woman, risk all in the attempt to win by 
honorable endeavor and persistence this bud of loveliness 
for my future wife. 

How I finally succeeded by means of my friend Farrar 
in being one evening invited to the same house as Miss 
Preston it is not necessary to state. You will believe me it 
was done with the utmost regard for her feelings and in a 
way that deceived Farrar himself, who if he is the most pry- 
ing is certainly the most volatile of men. In a crowded par- 
lor then, in the midst of the flash of diamonds and the flut- 
ter of fans Miss Preston and I again met. When I first saw 
her she was engaged in conversation with some young com- 
panion, and I had the pleasure of watching for a few min- 
utes, unobserved, the play of her ingenuous countenance, as 
she talked with her friend, or sat silently watching the brill- 
iant array before her. I found her like and yet unlike the 


T IV 0 MEN. 


37 


vision of my dreams. More blithesome in her appearance, 
as was not strange cor sidering her party attire and the lus- 
tre of the chandelier under which she sat, there was still 
that indescribable something in her expression which more 
than the flash of her eye or the curve of her lip, though 
both were lovely to me, made her face the one woman’s face 
in the world for me ; a charm which circumstances might 
alter, or suffering impair, but of which nothing save death 
could ever completely divest her and not death either, for it 
was the seal of her individuality, and that she would take 
with her into the skies. 

“ If I might but advance and sit down by her side with- 
out a word of explanation or the interference of conven- 
tionalities how happy I should be,” thought I. But I knew 
that would not do, so I contented myself with my secret 
watch over her movements, longing for and yet dreading the 
advance of my hostess, with its inevitable introduction. Sud- 
denly the piano was touched in a distant room and not till 
I saw the quick change in her face, a change hard to explain, 
did I recognize the selection as one I was in the habit of 
playing. She had not forgotten at least, and thrilled by the 
thought and the remembrance of that surge of color which 
had swept like a flood over her cheek, I turned away, feel- 
ing as if I were looking on what it was for no man’s eyes to 
see, least of all mine. 

My hostess* voice arrested me and next moment I was 
bowing to the ground before Miss Preston. 

I am not a boy ; nor have I been without my experi- 


3 « 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


iences : life with its vicissitudes lias taught me many a le* 
son, subjected me to many a trial, yet in all my career have 
I never known a harder moment than when I raised my 
eyes to meet hers after that lowly obeisance. That she would 
be indignant I knew, that she might even misinterpret my 
motives and probably withdraw without giving me an oppor- 
tunity to speak, I felt to be only too probable, but that she 
would betray an agitation so painful I had not anticipated, 
and for an instant I felt that I had hazarded my life’s hap* 
piness on a cast that was going against me. But the ne- 
cessity of saving her from remark speedily restored me to 
myself, and followng the line of conduct I had previously 
laid out, I addressed her with the reserve of a stranger, 
and neither by word, look or manner conveyed to her a sug- 
gestion that we had ever met or spoken to each other before. 
She seemed to appreciate my consideration and though she 
was as yet too much unused to the ways of the world to 
completely hide her perturbation, she gradually regained a 
semblance of self-possession, and ere long was enabled to re- 
turn short answers to my remarks, though her eyes remained 
studiously turned aside and never so much as ventured to 
raise themselves to the passing throng much less to my face, 
half turned away also. 

Presently however a change passed over her. Pressing 
her two little hands together, she drew back a step or two, 
speaking my name with a certain tone of command. Struck 
with apprehension, I knew not why, I followed her. In- 
stantly like one repeating a lesson she spoke. 


VWO MEN . 


39 


“ It is very good in you to talk to me as though we were 
the strangers that people believe us. I appreciate it and 
thank you very much. But it is not being just true ; tha' 
is I feel as if I were not being just true, and as we can never 
be friends, would it not be better for us not to meet in this 
way any more ? ” 

“And why,” I gently asked, with a sense of struggling for 
my life, “ can we never be friends ? ” 

Her answer was a deep blush ; not that timid conscious 
appeal of the blood that is beating too warmly for reply, but 
the quick flush of indignant generosity forced to do despite 
to its own instincts. 

“ That is a question I would rather not answer,” she 
murmured at length. “ Only it is so ; or I should not speak 
in this way.” 

“ But,” I ventured, resolved to know on just what foun- 
dations my happiness was tottering, “you will at least tell 
me if this harsh decree is owing to any offence I myself may 
have inadvertently given. The honor of your acquaint- 
ance,” I went on, determined she should know just what a 
hope she was slaying, “ is much too earnestly desired, for me 
to wilfully hazard its loss by saying or doing aught that could 
be in any way displeasing to you.” 

“ You have done nothing but what was generous,” said 
she with increasing womanliness of manner, “ unless it was 
taking advantage of my being here, to learn my name and 
gain an introduction to me after I had desired you to forget 
my very existence.” 


40 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


I recoiled at that, the chord of my self-respect wa* 
touched. “ It was not here I learned your name, Miss Pres- 
ton. It has been known to me for two weeks. At the risk 
of losing by your displeasure what is already hazarded by 
your prudence, I am bound to acknowledge that from the 
hour I left your father’s house that night, I have spared no 
effort compatible with my deep respect for your feelings, to 
ascertain who the young lady was that had done me such an 
honor, and won from me such a deep regard. I had not in- 
tended to tell you this,” I added, “ but your truth has awak- 
ened mine, and whatever the result may be, you must see me 
as I am.” 

“ You are very kind,” she replied governing with growing 
skill the trembling of her voice. “ The acquaintance of 
a girl of sixteen is not worth so much trouble on the part 
of a man like yourself.” And blushing with the vague ap- 
prehension of her sex in the presence of a devotion she 
rather feels than understands, she waved her trembling 
little hand and paused irresolute, seemingly anxious to ter- 
minate the interview but as yet too inexperienced to know 
how to manage a dismissal requiring so much tact and 
judgment. 

I saw, comprehended her position and hesitated. She 
was so young, uncle, her prospects in life were so bright; if 
I left her then, in a couple of weeks she would forget me. 
What was I that I should throw the shadow cf manhood’s 
deepest emotion across the paradise of her young untram- 
melled being. But the old Adam of selfishness has his sa* 


TWO MEN . 


41 


in my soul as well as in that of my fellow-men, and forget* 
ting myself enough to glance at her half averted face, I 
could not remember myself sufficiently afterwards to forego 
without a struggle, all hope of some day beholding that soft 
cheek turn in confidence at my approach. 

“ Miss Preston,” said I, “ the promise of the bud atones 
for its folded leaves.” Then with a fervor I did not seek to 
disguise, “ You say we cannot be friends ; would your de- 
cision be the same if this were our first meeting ? ” 

Again that flush of outraged feeling. “ I don’t know — 
yes I think — I fear it would.” 

I strove to help her. “ There is too great a difference be- 
tween Bertram Mandeville the pianist, and the daughter of 
Thaddeus Preston.” 

She turned and looked me gently in the eye, she did not 
need to speak. Regret, shame, longing flashed in her steady 
glance. 

“ Do not answer,” said I, “ I understand ; I am glad it is 
circumstances that stand in the way, and not any misconcep- 
tion on your part as to my motives and deep consideration 
for yourself. Circumstances can be changed.” And satis- 
fied with having thus dropped into the fruitful soil of that 
tender breast, the seed of a future hope, I bowed with all the 
deference at my command and softly withdrew. 

But not to rest. With all the earnestness with which a 
man sets himself to decide upon the momentous question of 
life or death, I gave myself up to a night of reflection, and 
seated in my solitary bachelor apartment, debated with my 


42 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


self as to the resolution at which I had dimly hinted in my 
parting words to Miss Preston. 

That I am a musician by nature, my success with the 
the public seems to indicate. That by following out the 
line upon which I had entered I would attain a certain emi- 
nence in my art, I do not doubt. But uncle, there are two 
kinds of artists in this world ; those that work because the 
spirit is in them and they cannot be silent if they would, and 
those that speak from a conscientious desire to make appa- 
rent to others the beauty that has awakened their own ad 
miration. The first could not give up his art for any cause 
without the sacrifice of his soul’s life ; the latter — well the 
latter could and still be a man with his whole inner being in- 
tact. Or to speak plainer, the first has no choice, while the 
latter has, if he has a will to exert it. Now you will say, 
and the world at large, that I belong to mo former class. I 
have risen in ten years from a choir boy in Trinity Church 
to a position in the world of music that insures me a full 
audience wherever and whenever I have a mind to exert my 
skill as a pianist. Not a man of my years has a more prom- 
ising outlook in my profession, if you will pardon the seem- 
ing egotism of the remark, and yet by the ease with which 
I felt I could give it up at the first touch of a master passion, 
I know that I am not a prophet in my art but merely an in- 
terpreter, one who can speak well but who has never felt the 
descent of the burning tongue and hence not a sinner against 
my own soul if I turn aside from the way I am walking. 
The question was, then, should I make a choice ? Love, as 


TWO MEN. 


43 


you say, seems at first blush too insecure a joy, if not often 
£>o trivial a one, to unsettle a man in his career and change 
ihe bent of his whole after life ; especially a love born of 
surprise and fed by the romance of distance and mystery. 
Had I met her in ordinary intercourse, surrounded by her 
friends and without the charm cast over her by unwonted 
circumstances, and then had felt as I did now that of all 
women I had seen, she alone would ever move the deep 
springs of my being, it would be different. But with this 
atmosphere of romance surrounding and hallowing her girl’s 
form till it seemed almost as ethereal and unearthly as that 
of an angel’s, was I safe in risking fame or fortune in an at- 
tempt to acquire what in the possession might prove as bare 
and commonplace as a sweep ot mountain heather stripped 
of its sunshine. Curbing every erratic beat of my heart, I 
summoned up her image as it bloomed in my fancy, and sur- 
veying it with cruel eyes, asked what was real and what the 
fruit of my own imagination. The gentle eye, the trembling 
lip, the girlish form eloquent with the promise of coming 
womanhood, — were these so rare, that beside them no other 
woman should seem to glance or smile or move ? And her 
words ! what had she said, that any simple-minded, modest 
yet loving girl might not have uttered under the circumstan- 
ces. Surely my belief in her being the one, the best and the 
dearest was a delusion, and to no delusion was I willing to 
sacrifice my art. But straight upon that conclusion came 
sweeping down a flood of counter-reasons. If not the wonder 
she seemed, she was at least a wonder to me- If I had seen 


44 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


her under romantic circumstances, and unconsciously beer, 
influenced by them, the influence had remained and nothing 
would ever rob her form of the halo thus acquired. Whether 
I ever won her to my fireside or not, she must always re- 
main the fairy figure of my dreams, and being so, the gentle 
eye and tender lip acquired a value that made them what 
they seemed, the exponent of love and happiness. And 
lastly if love well or illy founded was an uncertain joy, and 
the passion for a woman a poor substitute for the natural in 
centive of talent or ambition, this love had within it the be- 
ginning of something deeper than joy, and in the passion 
thus cheaply characterized, dwelt a force and living fire that 
notwithstanding all I have hitherto achieved, has ever been 
lacking from my dreams of endeavor. 

As you will see, the most natural question of all did not 
disturb me in these cogitations : And that was, whether in 
making the. sacrifice I proposed, I should meet with the re- 
ward I had promised myself. The fancies of a young girl of 
sixteen are not usually of a stable enough character to war- 
rant a man in building upon them his whole future happi- 
ness, especially a young girl situated like Miss Preston in 
the midst of friends who would soon be admirers, and adula- 
tors who would soon be her humble slaves. But the doubt 
which a serious contemplation of this risk must have pre- 
sented, was of so unnerving a character, I dared not ad 
mit it. If I made the sacrifice, I must meet with my reward 
I would listen to no other conclusion. Besides, something 
in the voung girl herself, I cannot tell what assured me 


TWO MEN . 


4 $ 


.hen as it assures me now, that whatever virtues or graces 
she might lack, that of fidelity to a noble idea was not 
among them ; that once convinced of the purity and value 
of the flame that had been lit in her innocent breast, noth- 
ing short of the unworthiness of the object that had awak’ 
ened it, would ever serve to eliminate or extinguish it. That 
I was not worthy but would make it the business of my life 
to become so, was certain ; that she would mark my endeav- 
ors and bestow upon me the sympathy they deserved, I was 
equally sure. No one would ever make such a sacrifice to 
her love as I was willing to do, and consequently in no one 
would I find a rival. 

The morning light surprised me in the midst of the 
struggle, nor did I decide the question that day. Mr. Pres- 
ton might not be as determined in his prejudices against 
musicians as my friends or even his daughter had imagined. 
I resolved to see him. Taking advantage of his connection 

with the Club, I procured an introducer in the shape of 

a highly respected person of his own class, and went one 
evening to the Club-rooms with the full intention of making 
his acquaintance if possible. He was already there and in 
conversation with some business associates. Procuring a 
seat as near him as possible, I anxiously surveyed his coun- 
tenance. It was not a reassuring one, and studied in this 
way had the effect of dampening any hopes I may have 
cherished in the outset. He soften to the sounds of sweet 
strains or the voice of youthful passion ! As soon as the 
grar.ite rock to the surge of the useless billow. His very 


46 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


necktie spoke volumes. It was an old fashioned stock, full 
of the traditions of o f her days, while his coat, shabbier than 
any I would presume to wear, betrayed in every well-worn 
earn the pride of the aristocrat and millionaire who in his 
Dative city and before the eyes of his fellow magnates does 
not need to carry the evidences of his respectability upon his 
back. 

“ It would be worse than folly for me to approach him on 
such a subject,” I mentally ejaculated. “ If he did not stare 
the musician out of countenance he would the newly risen 
man.” And I came very near giving up the whole thing. 

But the genius that watches over the affairs of true love 
was with me notwithstanding the unpropitious state of my 
surroundings. In a few minutes I received my expected 
introduction to Mr. Preston, and I found that underneath 
the repelling austerity of his expression, was a kindly spark 
for youth, and a decided sympathy for all instances of manly 
endeavor if only it was in a direction he approved ; further 
that my own personality was agreeable to him and that he 
was disposed to regard me with favor until by some chance 
and very natural allusion to my profession by the friend 
standing between us, he learned that I was a musician, when 
a decided change came over his countenance and he ex- 
claimed in that blunt, decisive way of his that admits of no 
reply : 

“ A jingler on the piano, eh ? Pretty poor use for a man 
to put hrs brains to, I say, or even his fingers. Sorry to hear 
we cannot be friends.” And without waiting for a reply 


TWO MEN . 


47 


♦ook ray introducer by the arm and drew him a step or so to 
one side. “ Why didn’t you say at once he was Mandevilk 
the musician,” I overheard him ask in somewhat querulous 
tones. “ Don’t you know I consider the whole race of them 
an abomination. I would have more respect for my bank 
clerk than I would for the greatest man of them all, were it 
Rubenstein himself.” Then in a lower tone but distinctly 
and almost as if he meant me to hear, “ My daughter has a 
leaning towards this same fol-de-rol and has lately requested 
my permission to make the acquaintance of some musical 
characters, but I soon convinced her that manhood under 
the disguise of a harlequin’s jacket could have no interest 
for her ; that when a human being, man or woman has sunk 
to be a mere rattler of sweet sounds, he has reached a stage 
of infantile development that has little in common with the 
nervous energy and business force of her Dutch ancestry. 
And my daughter stoops to make no acquaintances she can- 
not bid sit at her father’s table*” 

“Your daughter is a child yet, I thought,” was ventured 
by his companion. 

“ Miss Preston is sixteen, just the age at which my 
mother gave her hand to my respected father sixty-seven 
years ago.” And with this drop of burning lead let fall 
into my already agitated bosom they passed on. 

He would have more respect for his bank clerk ! Would 
his bank clerk or what was better, a young man with means 
at his command, working in a business capacity more in con- 
onance with the tastes he had evinced, have a chance oi 


48 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


winning his daughter? I began to think he might. * The 
way grows clearer ! ” I exclaimed. 

But it was not till after another interview with him ter. 
minutes later in the lobby that I finally made up my mind. 
He was standing quite alone in an obscure corner, fumbling 
in an awkward way with his muffler that had caught on the 
button of his coat. Seeing it, I hastened forward to his as- 
sistance and was rewarded by a kind enough nod to em- 
bolden me to say, 

“ I have been introduced to you as a musician ; would 
my acquaintance be more acceptable to you if I told you 
that the pursuit of art bids fair in my case to yield to 
the exigencies of business ? That I purpose leaving the 
concert- room for the banker’s office and that henceforth my 
only ambition promises to be that of Wall Street ? ” 

“ It most certainly would,” exclaimed he, holding out his 
hand with an unmistakable gesture of satisfaction. “ You 
have too good a countenance to waste before a piano-top 
strumming to the smirks of women and the plaudits of weak- 
headed men. Let us see you at the desk, my lad. We are 
in want of trustworthy young men to take the place of ui, 
older ones.” Then politely, “ Do you expect to make the 
change soon ? ” 

“ I do,” said I. 

And the Rubicon was passed. 


VI. 


A HAND CLASP. 

“ Ftr. — Here’s my hand. 

Mir . — And mine with my heart in it.” — ‘ Tkmpkst. 

Once arrived at a settled conclusion, I put every thought 
of wavering out of my mind. Deciding that with such a 
friend in business circles as yourself, I needed no other in- 
troducer to my new life, I set apart this evening for a con- 
fab with you on the subject. Meanwhile it is pretty gener- 
ally known that I make no more engagements to appear 
through the country. 

I have but one more incident to relate. Last Sunday in 
walking down Fifth Avenue I met her. I did not do this 
inadvertently. I knew her custom of attending Bible class 
and for once put myself in her way. I did not give her 
time to remonstrate. 

** Do not express your displeasure,” said I, “ this shall 
never be repeated. I merely wish to say that I have con- 
ciu led to leave a profession so little appreciated by those 
whose esteem I most desire to possess ; that I am about en- 
tering a banker’s office where it shall be my ambition to rise 
if possible, to wealth and consequence. If I succeed — you 
Bhall then know what my incentive has been. But till I sue- 


SO THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

ceed or at least give such tokens of success as shall insure 
respect, silence must be my portion and patience my sole 
support. Only of one thing rest assured, that until I inform 
vou with my own lips that the hope which now illumines me 
s gone, it will continue to burn on in my breast, shedding 
light upon a way that can never seem dark while that glow 
rests upon it.” And bowing with the ceremonious politeness 
our positions demanded, I held out my hand. “ One clasp 
to encourage me,” I entreated. 

It seemed as if she did not comprehend. “ You are go- 
ing to give up music, and for — for — ” 

“You?” said I. “ Yes, don’t forbid me,” I implored 
“ it is too late.” 

Like a lovely image of blushing girlhood turned by a 
lightning flash into marble, she paused, pallid and breathless 
where she was, gazing upon me with eyes that burned deeper 
and deeper a& the full comprehension of all that this implied 
gradually forced itself upon her mind. 

“You make a chaos of my little world,” she murmured 
at length. 

“ No,” said I, “ your world is untouched. If it should 
never be my good fortune to enter it, you are not to grieve. 
You are free, Miss Preston, free as this sunshiny air we 
bieathe ; I alone am bound, and that because I must be 
whether I will or no.” 

Then I saw the woman I had worshipped in this young 
fair girl shine fully and fairly upon me. Drawing herself 
uo, she looked me if the face and calmly laid her hand if 


TWO MEN 


5 


mine. u I am young,” said she, “ and do not know what 
may be right to say to one so generous and so kind. But 
this much I can promise, that whether or not I am ever able 
to duly reward you for what you undertake, I will at least 
make it the study of my life never to prove unworthy of so 
much trust and devotion.” 

And with the last lingering look natural to a parting for 
years, we separated then and there, and the crowd came be- 
tween us, and the Sunday bells rang on, and what was so 
vividly real to us at the moment, became in remembiancc 
more like the mist and shadow of a dream. 


VII. 


MRS. SYLVESTER. 

Love is more pleasant than marriage, for the same reason that romances art 
more amusing than history. — Chamfort. 

“ He draweth out the thread of his verbosity, finer than the staple of his argu- 
ment.” — Lovbs Labor Lost. 

Young Mandeville having finished his story, looked at 
his uncle. He found him sitting in an attitude of extreme 
absoiption, his right arm stretched before him on the table, 
his face bent thoughtfully downwards and clouded with that 
deep melancholy that seemed its most natural expression, 
“ He has not heard me,” was the young man’s first mortify- 
ing reflection. But catching his uncle’s eye which at that 
moment raised itself, he perceived he was mistaken and that 
he had rather been listened to only too well. 

* You must forgive me if I have seemed to rhapsodize,” 
the young man stammered. “ You were so quiet I half for- 
got I had a listener and went on much as I would if I had 
been thinking aloud.” 

His uncle smiled and throwing off the weight of his re 
flections whatever they might be, arose and began pacing 
the floor. “ I see you are past surgery,” quoth he, “ any 
wisdom of mine would be only thrown away.” 


TWO MEN . 


53 


Young Mandeville was hurt. He had expected some 
token of approval on his uncle’s part, oi at least some be- 
trayal of sympathy. His looks expressed his disappoint- 
ment. 

“ You expected to convert me by this story,” continued 
.he elder, pausing with a certain regret before his nephew ; 
“ nothing could convert me but — ” 

“What? ” inquired Mandeville after waiting in vain foi 
the other to finish. 

“ Something which we will never find in the whirl ot 
New York fashionable life. A woman with faith to reward 
and soul to understand such unqualified trust as yours.” 

But I believe Miss Preston is such a girl and will be 
such a woman. Her looks, her last words prove it.” 

“ Nothing proves it but time and as for your belief, I 
have believed too.” Then as if fearing he had said too 
much, assumed his most business-like tone and observed, 
“ But we will drop all that ; you have resolved to quit music 
and enter Wall Street, your object money and the social con- 
sideration which money secures. Now, why Wall Street ? ” 
“ Because I can think of no other means for attaining 
what I desire, in the space of time I would consent to keep 
a young lady of Miss Preston’s position waiting.” 

“ Humph ! and you have money, I suppose, which you 
piopose to risk on the hazard ? ” 

“ Some ! enough to start with ; a small amount to you 
but sufficient if I am fortunate.” 

“ And if you are not ? ” 


54 


THtt S tVORD OF DAMOCLES. 


The young man opened his arms with an expressive ges- 
ture, “ I am done for, that is all.” 

“ Bertram,” his uncle exclaimed with a change of tone, 
“has it ever struck you that Mr. Preston might have as 
strong a prejudice against speculation as against the musical 
profession ? ” 

“ No, that is, pardon me but I have sometimes thought 
that even in the event of success I should have to struggle 
against his inherited instincts of caste and his natural dis- 
like of all things new, even wealth, but I never thought of 
the possibility of my arousing his distrust by speculating 
in stocks and engaging in enterprises so nearly in accord 
with his own business operations.” 

“Yet if I guess aright you would run greater risk of los- 
ing the support of his countenance by following the hazard- 
ous course you propose, than if you continued in the line of 
art that now engages you.” 

“ Do you know — ” 

“ I know nothing, but I fear the chances, Bertram.” 

“ Then I am already defeated and must give up my 
hopes of happiness.” 

A smile thin and indefinable crossed the other’s face. 
“ No,” said he, “ not necessarily.” And sitting down by his 
nephew’s side, he asked if he had any objections to enter a 
bank. “ In a good capacity,” he exclaimed. 

“ No indeed ; it would be an opportunity surpassing my 
hopes. Do you know of an opening ? ” 

“ Well.” said he, “ under the circumstances I will let you 


TWO MEN. 


55 


into the secret of my own affairs. I have always had one 
ambition, and that was to be at the head of a bank. I have 
not said much about it, but for the last five years I have 
been working to this end, and to-day' you see me the pos- 
sessor of at least three-fourths of the stock of the Madison 
Bank. It has been deteriorating for some time, consequently 
I was enabled to buy it low, but now that I have got it I in- 
tend to build up the concern. I am able to throw business 
of an important nature in its way, and I dare prophesy that 
before the year is out you will see it re-established upon a 
solid and influential footing.” 

“ I have no doubt of it, sir ; you have the knack of suc- 
cess, any thing that you touch is sure to go straight.” 

“ Unhappily yes, as far as business operations go. But 
no matter about that ; — ” as if the other had introduce^ 
some topic incongruous to the one they were considering 
— “ the point is this. In two weeks time I shall be elected 
President of the Bank ; if you will accept the position of 
assistant cashier, — the best I can offer in consideration ol 
your total ignorance of all details of the business, — it is open 
to you — ” 

“ Uncle ! how generous ! I — ” 

“ Hush ! your duties will be nominal, the present cashier 
is fully competent ; but the leisure thus afforded will ofifei 
you abundant opportunity to make yourself acquainted with 
all matters connected with the banking system as well as 
with such capitalists as it would be well for you to know 
So that when the occasion comes, I can raise you to the cash 


56 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


ier’s place or make such other disposal of your talents as 
will best insure your rapid advance*” 

The young man’s eyes sparkled ; with a sudden impet- 
uous movement he jumped to his feet and grasped his un 
cle’s hand. “ I can never thank you enough ; you have 
made me your debtor for life. Now let any one ask me who 
is my father, and I will say — ” 

“ He was Edward Sylvester’s brother. But come, come, 
this extreme gratitude is unnecessary. You have always 
been a favorite with me, Bertram, and now that I have no 
child, you seem doubly near ; it is my pleasure to do what I 
can for you. But — ” and here he surveyed him with a wist- 
ful look, “ I wish you were entering into this new line from 
love of the business rather than love of a woman. I fear for 
you my boy. It is an awful thing to stake one’s future upon 
a single chance and that chance a woman’s faith. If she 
should fail you after you had compassed your fortune, should 
die — well you could bear that perhaps ; but if she turned false, 
and married some one else, or even married you and then — ” 
“What? ’’ came in silvery accents from the door, and a 
woman richly clad, her trailing velvets' filling the air at once 
with an oppressive perfume, entered the room and paused 
before them in an attitude meant to be arch, but which from 
the massiveness of her figure and the scornful carriage of 
her head, succeeded in being simply imperious. 

Mr. Sylvester rose abruptly as if unpleasantly surprised 
M Ona ! ” he exclaimed, hastening, however, to cover his em* 
harassment by a courteous acknowledgement of her presence 


TWO MEN. 


5 7 


and a careless remark concerning the shortness of the ser- 
vices that had allowed her to return from church so early. 
“ I did not hear you come in,” he observed. 

“ No, I judge not,” she returned with a side glance at 
Mandeville. “ But the services were not short, on the con- 
trary I thought I should never hear the last amen. Mr 
Turner’s voice is very agreeable,” she went on, in a rambling 
manner all her own, “ it never interferes with your thoughts ; 
not that I am considered as having any,” she interjected 
with another glance at their silent guest, “ a woman in society 
with a reputation for taste in all matters connected with fash- 
ionable living, has no thoughts of course ; business men with 
only one idea in their heads, that of making money, have 
more no doubt. Do you know, Edward,” she went on with 
sudden inconsequence, which was another trait of this amia- 
ble lady’s conversation, “ that I have quite come to a con- 
clusion in regard to the girl Philip Longtree is going to 
marry ; she may be pretty, but she does not know how to 

r 

dress. I wish you could have seen her to-night ; she had on 
mauve with old gold trimmings. Now with one of her com- 
plexion — But I forget you haven’t seen her. Bertram, I 
think I shall give a German next month, will you come ? 
Oh, Edward ! ” as if the thought had suddenly struck her, 
<{ Princess Louise is the sixth child of Queen Victoria ; I 
asked Mr. Turner to-night. By the way, I wonder if it will 
be pleasant enough to take the horses out to-morrow ? Bird 
has been obliging enough to get sick just in the height of the 
season, Mr. Mandeville. There are a thousand things 1 


58 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


have got to do and I hate hired horses.” And with a petu« 
lant sigh she laid her prayer-book on the table and with a 
glance in the mirror near by, began pulling off her gloves in 
the slow and graceful fashion eminently in keeping with her 
e /ery movement. 

It was as if an atmosphere of worldliness had settled 
down upon this room sanctified a moment before by the ut- 
leiances of a pure and noble love. Mr Sylvester looked un- 
easy, while Bertram searched in vain for something to say. 

“ I seem to have brought a blight,” she suddenly mur- 
mured in an easy tone somewhat at variance with the glance 
of half veiled suspicion which she darted from under her 
heavy lids, at first one and then the other of the two gentle- 
men before her. “ No, I will not sit,” she added as her hus- 
band offered her a chair. “ I am tired almost to death and 
would retire immediately, but I interrupted you I believe in 
the utterance of some wise saying about matrimony. It is 
an interesting subject and I have a notion to hear what one 
so well qualified to speak in regard to it — ” and here she 
made a slow, half lazy courtesy to her husband with a look 
that might mean anything from coquetry to defiance — “has 
to say to a young man like Mr. Mandeville.” 

Edward Sylvester who was regarded as an autocrat 
among men, and who certainly was an acknowledged leader 
in any company he chose to enter, bowed his head before this 
anomalous glance with a gesture of something like submission. 

“ One is not called upon to repeat every inadvertent 
phrase he may utter,” said he. “ Bertram was consulting 
me upon certain topics and — ” 


TWO MEN. 


59 


u You answered him in your own brilliant style/' she con- 
cluded. “ What did you say ? ” she asked in another mo- 
ment in a low unmoved tone which the final act of smooth- 
ing out her gloves on the table with hands delicate as white 
rose leaves but firm as marble, did not either hasten or re- 
tard. 

“ Oh if you insist/' he returned lightly, “ and are willing 
to bear the reflection my unfortunate remark seems to cast 
upon the sex, I was merely observing to my nephew, that 
the man who centered all his hopes upon a woman’s faith, 
was liable to disappointment. Even if he succeeded in mar- 
rying her there were still possibilities of his repenting any 
great sacrifice made in her behalf.’ 

“ Indeed ! ” and for once the delicate cheek flushed 
deeper than its rouge. “ And why do you say this ? ” she 
inquired, dropping her coquettish manner and flashing upon 
them both, the haughty and implacable woman Bertram had 
always believed her to be, notwithstanding her vagaries and 
fashion. 

“ Because I have seen much of life outside my own 
house,” her husband replied with undiminished courtesy ; 
“and feel bound to warn any young man of his probable 
fate, who thinks to find nothing but roses and felicity be- 
yond the gates of fashionable marriage.” 

“ Ah then, it was on general principles you were speak- 
ing,” she remarked with a soft laugh that undulated through 
an atmosphere suddenly grown too heavy for easy breath- 
ing “ I did not know ; wives are so little apt to be appre- 


6o 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


ciated in this world, Mr. Mandeville, I was afraid he mighl 
be giving you some homely advice founded upon personal 
experience.” And she moved towards their guest with that 
strange smile of hers which some called dangerous but which 
he had always regarded as oppressive. 

She saw him drop his eyes, and smiled again, but in a 
different way. This woman, whom no one accused of any- 
thing worse than levity, hailed every tribute to her power, as 
a miser greets the glint of gold. With a turn of her large 
but elegant figure that in its slow swaying reminded you of 
some heavy tropical flower, hanging inert, intoxicated with 
its own fragrance, she dismissed at once the topic that had 
engaged them, and launched into one of her choicest streams 
of inconsequent talk. But Mandeville was in no mood to 
listen to trivialities, and being of a somewhat impatient na- 
ture, presently rose and excusing himself, took a hurried 
leave. Not so hurried however that he did not have time to 
murmur to his uncle as they walked towards the door : 

“You would make comparison between the girl I wor- 
ship and other women in fashionable life. Do not I pray ; 
she is no more like them than a star that shines is like a rose 
that blooms. My fate will not be like that of most men that 
we know, but better and higher.” 

And his uncle standing there in the grand hall-way, with 
the fresh splendors of unlimited wealth gleaming upon him 
from every side, looked after the young man with a sigh and 
repeated, “ Better and higher ? God in his merciful good 
ness grant it.” 


VIII. 


SHADOWS OP THE PAST. 

“ Memory, the warder of the brain.” 

Macbeth. 

It was long past midnight. The fire in the grate burred 
dimly, shedding its lingering glow on the face of the master 
of the house as with bowed head and folded hands he sat 
alone and brooding before its dying embers. 

It was a lonesome sight. The very magnificence of the 
spacious apartment with its lofty walls and glittering works 
of art, seemed to give an air of remoteness to that solitary 
form, bending beneath the weight of its reflections. From 
the exquisitely decorated ceiling to the turkish rugs scattered 
over the polished floor, all was elegant and luxurious, and 
what had splendors like these to do with thoughts that bent 
the brows and overshadowed the lips of man ? The very 
lights burned deprecatingly, illuminating beauties upon which 
no eye gazed and for which no heart beat. The master him- 
self seemed to feel this for he presently rose and put them 
out, after which he seated himself as before, only if possible 
with more abandon, as if with the extinguishing of the light 
some eye had been shut whose gaze he had hitherto feared. 
A.nd in truth my lady’s image shone fainter from its heavy 


62 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


panel, and the smile which had met with unrelenting sweet 
ness the glare of the surrounding splendor, softened in thi 
mellow glimmer of the fire-light to an etherial halo that left 
vou at rest. 

One , two , three, the small clock sounded from the mantel 
and yet no stir took place in the sombre figure keeping 
watch beneath. What were the thoughts which could thus 
detain from his comfortable bed a man already tired with 
manifold cares ? It would be hard to tell. The waters that 
gush at the touch of the diviner’s rod are tumultuous in 
their flow and rush hither and thither with little heed to the 
restraining force of rule and reason. But of the pictures 
that rose before his eyes in those dying embers, there were 
two which stood out in startling distinctness. Let us see if 
we can convey the impression of them to other eyes and 
hearts. 

First, the form of his mother. Ah grey-bearded men 
weighted with the cares of life and absorbed in the monot- 
onous round of duties that to you are the be all and end all 
of existence, to whom morning means a jostling ride to the 
bank, the store or the office, and with whom night is but the 
name for a worse unrest because of its unfulfilled promises 
of slumber, what soul amongst you all is so callous to the 
holy memories of childhood, as not to thrill with something 
of the old time feeling of love and longing as the memory of 
that tender face with its watchful eye and ready smiles, comes 
back to you from the midst of weary years ! Your mother ! 

But Edward Sylvester with that black line across his life 


TWO MEN. 


63 


cutting past from present, what makes him think of his 
mother to-night ; and the cottage door upon the hillside 
where she used to stand with eager eyes looking up and 
down the road as he came trudging home from school, swing- 
ing his satchel and shouting at every squirrel that started 
across the road or peeped from the branches of the grand 
old maples overhead ! And the garret-chamber under the 
roof, the scene of many a romp with Elsie and Sonsie and 
Jack, neighbors’ children to whom the man of to-day would 
be an awe and a mystery ! And the little room where he 
slept with Tom his own blue-eyed brother so soon to die 
of a wasting disease, but full of warm blood then and all 
alive with boyish pranks. He could almost hear the wild 
clear laugh with which the mischievous fellow started upon 
its travels, the rooster whose legs he had tied a short space 
apart with one of Sonsie’s faded ribbons, a laugh that became 
unrestrained when the poor creature in attempting to run 
down hill, rolled over and over, cutting such a figure before 
his late admirers, the hens, that even Elsie smiled in the 
midst of her gentle entreaties. And Jocko the crow, whom 
taming had made one of the boys ! poor Jocko ! is it nearly 
thirty years since you used to stalk in majesty through the 
village streets, with your neat raven coat closely buttoned 
across your breast and your genteel caw, caw, and conde- 
scending nod for old acquaintances ? The day seems but aa 
yesterday when you marred the stolen picnic up in the 
woods by flying off with a flock of your fellow black-coats, 
nor is it easy to realize that the circle of tow-headed fellows 


64 ME SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

who hailed with shouts your ignominious return after a day 01 
so’s experience of the vaunted pleasures of freedom, are now 
sharp featured men without a smile for youth or a thought 
beyond the hard cold dollar buried deep in their pockets. 

And the church up over the hills ! and the long Sunday 
walk at mother’s side with the sunshine glowing on the dusty 
road and beating on the river flowing far beyond ! The 
same road, the same river of Monday and Tuesday but how 
different it looked to the boy ; almost like another scene, as 
if Sunday clothes were on the world as well as upon his rest- 
less little limbs. How he longed for it to be Monday though 
he did not say so ; and what a different day Saturday would 
have been if only there was no long, sleepy Sunday to fol- 
low it. 

But the mother ! She did not dread that day. Her 
eyes used to brighten when the bell began to ring from the 
old church steeple. Her eyes ! how they mingled with every 
picture ! They seemed to fill the night. What a sparkle 
they had, yet bow they used to soften at his few hurried 
caresses. He was always too busy for kisses ; there were the 
snares in the north woods to be looked after; the nest in 
the apple-tree to be inquired into ; the skates to be ground 
before the river froze over; the nuts to be gathered and 
stored in that same old garret chamber under the eaves. 
But now how vividly her least look comes back to the tired 
man, from the glance of wistful sympathy with which she 
met his childish disappointments to the flash of joy that 
hailed his equally childish delights. 


TWO MEN . 


65 


And another scene there is in the embers to-night ; a re- 
membrance of later days when the mother with her love and 
yearning was laid low in the grave, and manhood had learned 
its first lessons of passion and ambition from the glance of 
younger eyes and the smile of riper lips. Not the picture ol 
a woman, however ; that was already present beside him, 
shining from its panel with an insistence that not even the 
putting out of the lights could quite quench or subdue, but 
of a child young, pure and beautiful, sitting by the river in 
the glow of a June sunshine, gazing at the hills of his boy- 
hood’s home with a look on her face such as he had never 
before seen on that of child or woman. A simple picture 
with a simple villager’s daughter for its centre, but as he 
mused upon it to-night, the success and triumph of the last 
ten years faded from his sight like the ashes that fell at his 
feet, and he found himself questioning in vain as to what 
better thing he had met in all the walks of his busy life than 
that young child’s innocence and faith as they shone upon 
him that day from her soft uplifted eyes. 

He had been sitting the whole warm noontide at the 
side of her whose half gracious, half scornful, wholly indo- 
lent acceptance of his homage, he called love, and enervated 
by an atmosphere he was as yet too inexperienced to iecog* 
nize as of the world, worldly, had strolled forth to cool his 
fevered brow in the fresh autumn breeze that blew tip from 
the river. He was a gay-hearted youth in those days, heed- 
less of everything but the passing moment ; nature meant 
little to him ; and when in the course of his ramble he cama 


66 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


upon the form of a child sitting on the edge of the liver, he 
remembers wondering what she saw in a sweep of empty 
water to interest her so deeply. Indeed he was about to in- 
quire when she turned and he caught a glimpse of her eyes 
and knew at once without asking. Yet in those days he was 
anything but quick to recognize the presence of feeling. A 
face was beautiful or plain to him, not eloquent or express- 
ive. But this child’s countenance was exceptional. It 
made you forget the cotton frock she wore, it made you for- 
get yourself. As he gazed on it, he felt the stir of something 
in his breast he had never known before, and half dreaded 
to hear her speak lest the charm should fail or the influence 
be lost. Yet how could he pass on and not speak. Laying 
his hand on her head, he asked her what she was thinking of 
as she sat there all alone looking off on the river ; and the 
wee thing drew in her breath and surveyed him with all her 
soul in her great black eyes before she replied , “ I do not 
know, I never know/* Then .looking back she dreamily 
added, “ It makes me want to go away, miles away,” — and 
she held out her tiny arms towards the river with a longing 
gesture ; “and it makes me want to cry.” 

And he understood or thought he did and for the first 
time in his life looked upon the river that had met his gaze 
from childhood, with eyes that saw its exceeding beauty. 
Ah it was an exquisite scene, a rare scene, mountain melting 
into mountain and meadow vanishing into meadow, till the 
flow of silver waters was lost in a horizon of azure mist. No 
wonder that a child without snares to set or nuts to gather. 


TWO MEN. 


07 


should pause a moment to gaze upon it, as even he in the 
days gone by would sometimes stop on Sabbath eves to 
snatch a kiss from his mother’s lips. 

“ It is like a fairy land, is it not ? ” quoth the child look- 
ing up into his face with a wistful glance. “ Do you know 
what it is that makes me feel so ? ” 

He smiled and sat down by her side. Somehow he felt 
as if a talk with this innocent one would restore him more 
than a walk on the hills. “ It is the spirit of beauty, my 
child, you are moved by the loveliness of the scene ; is it a 
new one to you ? ” 

“ No, oh no, but I always feel the same. As if some- 
thing here was hungry, don’t you know ? ” and she laid her 
little hand on her breast. 

He did not know, but he smiled upon her notwithstand- 
ing, and made her talk and talk till the gush of the sweet 
child spirit with its hidden longings and but half unde rstood 
aspirations, bathed his whole being in a reviving shower, and 
he felt as if he had wandered into a new world where the 
languors of the tropics were unknown, and passior^ if there 
was such, had the wings of an eagle instead of ti e siren’s 
voice and fascination. 

Her name was Paula, she said, and before h aving he 
found that she was a relative of the woman he loved. This 
was a slight shock to him. The lily and the cactus abloom 
on one stalk ! How could that be ? and for a moment he 
felt as if the splendors of the glorious woman paled before 
the lustre of the innocent child. But the feeling, if it was 


68 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 

strong enough to be called such, soon passed. As the days 
swept by bringing evenings with light and music and whis- 
pered words beneath the vine-leaves, the remembrance of 
the pure, sweet hour beside the river, gradually faded till 
only a vague memory of that gentle uplifted face sweet with 
its childish dimples, remained to hallow now and then a 
a passing reverie or a fevered dream. 

But to night its every lineament filled his soul, vying with 
the memories of his mother in its vividness and power. O 
tfhy had he not learned the lesson it taught. Why had he 
turned his back upon the high things of life to yield himself 
to a current that swept him on and on until the power of re- 
sistence left him and — O dwell not here wild thoughts 1 
Pause not on the threshold of the one dark memory that 
blasts the soul and sears the heart in the secret hours of 
night. Let the dead past bury its dead and if one must 
think, let it be of the hope, which the remembrance of that 
short glimpse into a pure if infantile soul has given to his 
long darkened spirit. 

One, two, three, four ; and the fire is dead and the 
night has grown chill, but he heeds it not. He has asked 
himself if his life’s book is quite closed to the higher joys of 
existence ? whether money getting and money holding is to 
absorb him body and soul forever ; and with the question a 
great yearning seizes him to look upon that sweet child 
again, if haply in the gleam of her pure spirit, something of 
the noble and the pure that lay beneath the crust of life 
night be again revealed to his longing sight. 


TWO MEN . 


69 


4< She must be a great girl now,” mum: ared he to him- 
self, “ as old as if not older than she whom Bertram adorea 
so passionately, but she will always be a child to me, a sweet 
pure child whose innocence is my teacher and whose igno- 
rance is my better wisdom, it anything will save me — ” 
But here the shadow settled again; when it lifted, the 
morning ray lay cool and ghostly over the hearthstone. 


IX. 


PAULA. 

M The stars of midnight shall be dear 
To her ; and she shall lean her ear 
In many a secret place 
Where rivulets dance their wayward round, 

And beauty born of murmuring sound 
Shall pass into her face.” 

—Wordsworth. 

A wintry scene. Snow-piled hills stretching beyond a 
frozen river. On the bank a solitary figure tall, dark and 
commanding, standing with eyes bent sadly on a long narrow 
mound at his feet. It is Edward Sylvester and the mound 
is the grave of his mother. 

It is ten years since he stood upon that spot. In all that 
time no memories of his childhood’s home, no recollection of 
that lonely grave among the pines, had been sufficient to 
allure him from the city and its busy round of daily cares. 
Indeed he had always shrunk at the very name of the place 
and never of his own will alluded to it, but the reveries of a 
night had awakened a longing that was not to be appeased, 
and in the face of his wife’s cold look of astonishment and a 
secret dread in his own heart, had left his comfortable fire- 
side, for the scenes of his early life and marriage, and was 


TWO MEN. 


7 1 


now standing, in the bleak December air, gazing down upon 
the stone that marked his mother’s grave. 

But tender as were the chords that reverberated at this 
sight, it was not to revisit this tomb he had returned to 
Grotewell. No, that other vision, the vision of young sweet 
appreciative life has drawn him more strongly than the 
memory of the dead. It was to search out and gaze again 
upon the innocent girl, whose eloquent eyes and lofty spirit 
had so deeply moved him in the past, that he had braved 
the chill of the Connecticut hills and incurred the displeas- 
ure of his wife. 

Y et when he turned away from that simple headstone and 
set his face towards the village streets it was with a sinking 
of the heart that first revealed to him the severity of the or- 
deal to which he had thus wantonly subjected himself. Not 
that the wintry trees and snow covered roofs appealed to him 
as strongly as the same trees and homes would have done in 
their summer aspect. The land was bright with verdure when 
that shadow fell whose gloom resting upon all the landscape, 
made a walk down this quiet road even at this remote day, a 
matter of such pain to him. But scenes that have caught 
the reflection of a life’s joy or a heart’s sorrow, lose not their 
power of appeal, with the leaves they shake from their trees, 
and nothing that had met the eyes of this man from the 
hour he left this spot, no, not the glance of his wife as his 
child fell back dead in his arms, had shot such a pang to his 
soul as the sight of that long street with its array of quiet 
homes, stretching out before him into the dim grey distance 


72 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


But for all that he was determined to traverse it, ay to 
the very end, though his steps must pass the house whose 
ghostly portals were fraught with memories dismal as death 
to him. On then he proceeded, walking with his usual 
steady pace that only faltered or broke, as he met the shy 
eyes of some hurrying village maiden, speeding upon some 
errand down the snowy street, or encountered some old 
friend of his youth who despite his altered mien and com- 
manding carriage, recognized in him the slim young bank 
cashier who had left them now ten long years ago to make a 
name and fortune in the great city. 

It was noon by the time he gained the heart of the vil- 
lage, and school was out and the children came rushing by 
with just the same shout and scamper with which he used to 
hail that hour of joyous release. How it carried him back 
to the days when those four red walls towered upon him 
with awful significance, as with books on his back and a half 
eaten apple in his pocket he crept up the walk, conscious 
that the bell had rung its last shrill note a good half hour 
before. He felt half tempted to stop and make his way 
through the crowd of shouting boys and dancing girls to 
that same old door again, and see for himself if the huge 
LATE which in a fit of childish revenge he had cut on its 
awkward panels, was still there to meet the eyes of tardy 
boys and loitering girls. But the wondering looks of the 
children unused to behold a figure so stately in their simple 
streets deterred him and he passed thoughtfully on. So 
engrossed was he by the reminiscences of Tom and Elsie 


TIVO MEN. 


7 3 


which the school house had awakened, that he passed the 
ominous mansion which had been his dread, and the bank 
where he had worked, and the arbor by the side of the road 
where he had sat out the first hours of his fatal courtship, 
almost without realizing their presence, and was at the end 
if the street and in full view of the humble cottage which 
the little Paula had pointed out as her home on that day of 
their first acquaintance. 

“ Good heaven ! and I do not even know if she is alive,” 
he suddenly ejaculated, stopping where he was and eying 
the lowly walls before him with a quick realization of the 
possibilities of a great disappointment. “Ten years have 
strown many a grave on the hillside and Ona would not 
mention it if she lost every relative she had in this town. 
What a fool I have been,” thought he. 

But with the stern resolution which had carried him 
through many a difficulty, he prepared to advance, when he 
was again arrested by seeing the door of the house he was 
contemplating, suddenly open and a girlish figure issue forth. 
Could it be Paula ? With eager, almost feverish interest he 
watched her approach. She was a slight young thing and 
came towards him with a rapid movement almost jaunty 
in its freedom. If it were Paula, he would know her by hei 
eyes, but for some reason he hoped it was not she, not the 
child of his dreams. 

At a yard or two in front of him she paused astonished. 
This grave, tall figure with the melancholy brow, deep eyes 
and firmly compressed lips was an unaccustomed sight in 


74 the sword of damocles. 

this primitive town. Scarcely realizing what she did she 
gave a little courtesy and was proceeding on when he 
stopped her with a huiried gesture. 

“ Is Mrs. Fairchild still living? ” he asked, indicating tho 
house she had just left. 

“Mrs. Fairchild? O no,” she returned, surveying him 
out of the corner of a very roguish pair of brown eyes, with a 
certain sly wonder at the suspense in his voice. “ She has 
been dead as long as I can remember. Old Miss Abby and 
her sister live there now.” 

“ And who are they ? ” he hurriedly asked ; he could 
net bring himself to mention Paula’s name. 

“ Why, Miss Abby and Miss Belinda,” she returned with 
a puzzled air. “ Miss Abby sews and Miss Belinda teaches 
the school. I don’t know anything more about them, sir.” 

The courteous gentleman bowed. “ And they live there 
quite alone ? ” 

“ O no sir, Paula lives with them.” 

“ Ah, she does and the young girl looking at him 
could not detect the slightest change in his haughty counte- 
nance. “ Paula is Mrs. Fairchild’s daughter.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Thank you,” said he, and allowed the pretty brown- 
eyed miss to pass on, which she did with lingering footsteps 
and many a backward glance of the eye. 

Halting at the door of that small cottage, Edward Syl- 
vester reasoned with himself. 

“ She may be just such another fresh-looking, round 


TWO MEN . 


75 


faced, mischievous-eyed school-girl. Spiritual children do 
not always make earnest-souled women. Let me beware 
what hopes I build on a foundation so unsubstantial.” Yet 
when in a moment later the door opened and a weazen- 
faced dapper, little woman appeared, all smiles and welcome, 
he owned to a sensation of dismay that sufficiently convinced 
him what a hold this hope of meeting with something excep- 
tionally sweet and high, had taken upon his hitheuo careless 
and worldly spirit. 

“ Mr. Sylvester I am sure ! I thought Ona would re- 
member us after a while. Come in sir, do, my sister will be 
home in a few moments.” And with a deprecatory flutter 
comical enough in a woman at least seventy odd years old, 
she led her distinguished guest into a large unu?ed room 
where in spite of his remonstrances she at once proceeded 
to build a fire. 

“ It is a pleasure sir,” she said to every utterance of re 
gret on his part at the trouble he was causing. And thougc 
her vocabulary was thus made to appear somewhat small 
her sincerity was undoubted. “ We have counted the days, 
Belinda and I, since we sent the last letter. It may seem 
foolish to you, sir ; but Paula is growing so fast and Belinda 
says is so uncommon smart for her age that we did think 
that it was time Ona knew just what a straight we were in. 
Do you want to see Paula ? ” 

“ Very much,” he returned, shocked and embarrassed at 
the position in which he found himself put by the reticence 
of his wife on the subject of her relations. ‘ They think I 


7 6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


have come in reply to a letter/’ he mused, “ and I did nol 
even know my wife had received one.” 

You will be surprised,” she exclaimed with a compla- 
cent nod as the fire blazed up brightly ; “ every one is sur- 
prised who sees her for the first time. Is my niece well ? ” 
And thus it was he learned the relation between his wife of 
ten years and these simple inhabitants of the little cottage 
in Grotewell. 

He replied as in duty bound, and presently by the use of 
a few dexterous questions succeeded in eliciting from this 
simple-minded old lady, the few facts necessary to a prop©' 
understanding of the situation. Miss Abby and Miss Be- 
linda were two maiden ladies, sisters of Mrs. Fairchild 
and Ona’s mother, who on the death of the former took 
up their abode in the little cottage for the purpose of bring- 
ing up the orphan Paula. They had succeeded in this by 
dint of the utmost industry, but Paula was not a common 
child, and Belinda, who was evidently the autocrat of the 
house, had decided that she ought to have other advantages. 
She had therefore written to Mrs. Sylvester concerning the 
child, in the hopes P.iat that lady would take enough interest 
in her pretty li^.'ie cousin to send her to boarding-school ; 
but they had received no reply till now, all of which was per- 
fectly rigK of course, Mrs. Sylvester being undoubtedly occu- 
pied and Mr. Sylvester himself being better than any letter. 

“ And does Paula herself know what efforts you have 
been making in her behalf, “ asked Mr. Sylvester upon the 
receipt of this information. 


TWO MEN. 


77 


The little lady shook her head with vivacity. “ Belinda 
advised me to say nothing/’ she remarked. “The child is 
contented with her home and we did not like to raise her ex* 
pectations. You will never regret anything you may do for 
her,” she went on in a hurried way with a peep now and 
then towards the door as if while enjoying a momentary 
freedom of speech, she feared an intrusion that would cut 
that pleasure short. “ Paula is a grateful child and never 
has given us a moment of concern from the time she began 
to put pieces of patchwork together. But there is Belinda,” 
she suddenly exclaimed, rising with the little dip and jerk of 
her left shoulder that was habitual to her whenever she was 
amused or excited. “ Belinda,” she cried, going to the door 
and speaking with great impressiveness, “ Mr. Sylvester is 
in the parlor.” And almost instantly a tall middle aged 
lady entered, whose plain but powerful countenance and 
dignified demeanor, stamped her at once as belonging to a 
very different type of woman from her sister. 

“ I am very glad to see you sir,” she exclaimed in a slow 
determined voice as dissimilar as possible from the piping 
tones of Miss Abby. “ Is not Mrs. Sylvester with you ? ” 

“ No,” returned he, “ I have come alone ; my wife is not 
fond of travelling in winter.” 

The slightest gleam shot from her bright keen eye. ‘ Is 
she not well ? ” 

“ Yes quite well, but not over strong,” he rejoined 
quietly. 

She gave him another quick look, settled some mattei 


78 


THE SIVORD OF DAMOCLES. 


with herself and taking off her bonnet, sat down by the 
fire. At once her sister ceased in her hovering about the 
room and sitting also, became to all appearance her silent 
shadow. 

“ Paula has gone up stairs to take off her bonnet,” the 
younger woman said in a straightforward manner just short 
of being brusque. “ She is a very remarkable girl, Mr. Syl- 
vester, a genius I suppose some would call her, a child of 
nature I prefer to say. Whatever there is to be learned in 
this town she has learned. And in a place where nature 
speaks and good books abound that is not inconsiderable. 
I have taken pride in her talents I acknowledge, and have 
endeavored to do what I could to cultivate them to the best 
advantage. There is no girl in my school who can write so 
original a composition, nor is there one with a truer heart 
or more tractable disposition.” 

“You have then been her teacher as well as her friend, 
she owes you a double debt of gratitude.” 

A look hard to understand flashed over her homely face. 
“ I have never thought of debt or gratitude in connection 
with Paula. The only effort which I have ever made in her 
behalf which cost me anything, is this one which threatens 
me with her loss.” Then as if fearing she had said too 
much, set her firm lips still firmer and ignoring the subject 
of the child, astonished him by certain questions on the 
leading issues of the day that at once betrayed a truly virile 
mind. 

u She is a study,” thought he to himself, but meeting hei 


TWO MEN 


79 


on the ground she had taken, replied at once and to her evi* 
dent satisfaction in the direct and simple manner that ap- 
peals the most forcibly to a strong if somewhat unpolished 
understanding., while the meek little Miss Abby glanced 
from one to the other with a humble awe more indicative of 
her appreciation for their superiority than of her compre- 
hension of the subject. 

But what with Miss Belinda’s secret anxiety and Mr. 
Sylvester’s unconscious listening for a step upon the stair, 
the conversation, brisk as it had opened, gradually lan- 
guished, and ere long with a sort of clairvoyant understand- 
ng of her sister’s wishes, Mis a Abby arose and with hei 
-ustomary jerk left the room fo* jr~ula. 

“ The child is not timid but has an unaccountable aver- 
sion to entering the presence of strangers alone,” Miss Be- 
linda explained ; but Mr. Sylvester did not hear her, for at 
that moment the door re-opened and Miss Abby stepped in 
with the young girl thus heralded. 

Edward Sylvester never forgot that moment, and indeed 
few men could have beheld the picture of extraordinary 
loveliness thus revealed, without a shock of surprise equal 
to the delight it inspired. She was not pretty ; the very 
word was a misnomer, she was simply one of nature’s most 
exquisite and undeniable beauties. From the crown of her 
ebon locks to the sole of her dainty foot, she was perfect as 
the most delicate coloring and the utmost harmony of con- 
tour could make her. And not in the conventional type 
either. There was an individuality in her style that was as 


So 


THE SWORD OL DAMOCLES. 


fresh as it was uncommon. She was at once unique and 
faultless, something that can be said of few women howevei 
beautiful or alluring. 

Mr. Sylvester had not expected this, as indeed how 
:ould he, and for a moment he could only gaze with a cer- 
tain swelling of the heart at the blooming loveliness that in 
one instant had transformed the odd little parlor into a 
bower fit for the habitation of princes. But soon his natural 
self-possession returned, and rising with his most courteous 
bow, he greeted the blushing girl with words of simple wel- 
come. 

Instantly her eyes which had been hitherto kept bent 
upon the floor flashed upward to his face and a smile full ot 
the wonder of an unlooked for, almost unhoped for delight, 
swept radiantly over her lips, and he saw with deep and sud- 
den satisfaction that the hour which had made such an im- 
pression upon him, had not been forgotten by her ; that his 
voice had recalled what his face failed to do, and that he 
was recognized. 

“ It is Mr. Sylvester, your cousin Ona’s husband,” Miss 
Belinda interposed in a matter-of-fact way, evidently attrib- 
uting the emotion of the child to her astonishment at the im- 
posing appearance of their guest. 

“ And it was you who married Ona ! ” she involuntarily 
murmured, blushing the next moment at this simple utter- 
ance of her thoughts. 

“Yes, dear child,” Mr. Sylvester hastened to say 
“And so you remember me?” he presently added, smil 


TWO MEN . 


81 


ing down upon her with a sense of new life that tor the 
moment made every care and anxiety shrink into the back- 
ground. 

“Yes,” she simply returned, taking the chair beside him 
with the unconscious grace of perfect self-forgetfulness. 
“ It was the first time I had found any one to listen to my 
childish enthusiasms ; it is natural such kindness should 
make its impression.” 

“ Little Paula and I met long ago,” quoth Mr. Sylvester 
turning to the somewhat astonished Miss Belinda. “ It was 
before my marriage and she was then — " 

“Just ten years old,” finished Paula, seeing him cast hu 
an inquiring glance. 

“ Very young for such a thoughtful little miss,” he ex 
claimed. “ And have those childish enthusiasms quite de- 
parted ? ” he continued, smiling upon her with gentle encour- 
agement. “ Do you no longer find a fairy-land in the view 
up the river?” 

She flushed, casting a timid glance at her aunt, but meet- 
ing his eyes again seemed to forget everything and every- 
body in the inspiration which his presence afforded. 

“ I fear I must acknowledge that it is more a fairy-land 
to me than ever,” she softly replied. “ Knowledge does 
not always bring disillusion, and though I have learned 
one by one the names of the towns scattered along those 
misty banks, and though I know they are no less prosaic in 
their character than our own humdrum village, yet I cannot 
rid myself of the notion that those verdant slopes with theii 


82 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


archway of clouds, hide the portals of Paradise, and that 1 
have only to follow the birds in their flight up the river tc 
find myself on the verge of a mystery, the banks at my fee* 
can never disclose.” 

11 May the gates of God’s Paradise never recede as those 
would do, my child, if like the birds you attempted to pierce 
them.” 

“ Paula is a dreamer,” quoth Miss Belinda in a matter-of- 
fact tone, “ but she is a good girl notwithstanding and can 
solve a geometrical problem with the best.” 

“ And sew on the machine and make a very good pie,” 
timidly put in Miss Abby. 

“ That is well,” laughed Mr. Sylvester, observing that the 
poor child’s head had fallen forward in maidenly shame at 
her aunts’ elogiums as well as at the length of the speech 
into which she had been betrayed. “ It shows that her eyes 
can see what is at hand as well as what is beyond our reach.” 
Then with a touch of his usual formal manner intended to 
restore her to herself, “ Do you like study, Paula ? ” 

In an instant her eyes flashed. “ I more than like it ; it 
feeds me. Knowledge has its vistas too,” she added with 
an arch look, the first he had seen on her* hitherto serious 
countenance. “ I can never outgrow my recognition of the 
portals it discloses or the fairy-land it opens up to every in- 
quiring eye.” 

“ Even geometry,” he ventured, more anxious to piobe 
this fresh young mind than he had ever been to sound the 
opinions of the most notable men of the day. 


TWO MEN . 


83 


“ Even geometry,” she smiled. “To be suie its portals 
are somewhat methodical in shape, allowing no scope to the 
fancy, but from its triangles and circles have been born the 
grandeurs of architecture, and upright on the threshold of 
its exact laws and undeviating calculations, I see an ange* 
with a golden rod in his hand, measuring the heavens.” 

“ Even a stone speaks to a poet,” said Mr. Sylvester with 
a glance at Miss Belinda. 

“ But Paula is no poet,” returned that lady with strict 
and impartial honesty. “ She has never put a line on paper 
to my knowledge. Have you child ?” 

“ No aunt, I would as soon imprison a falling sunbeam or 
try to catch the breeze that lifts my hair or kisses my cheek.” 

“You see,” continued Mr. Sylvester still looking at Miss 
Belinda. 

She answered with a doubtful shake of the head and an 
earnest glance at the girl as if she perceived something in 
that bright young soul, that even she had never observed 
before. 

“ Have you ever been away from home ? ” he now asked. 

“Never, I know as little of the great world as a callow • 
nestling. No, I should not say that, for the young bird has 
no Aunt Belinda to tell of the great cathedrals and the won- 
derful music she has heard and the glorious pictures she has 
seen in her visits to the city. It is almost as good as trav- 
elling one’s self to hear Aunt Belinda talk.” 

It was now the turn of the mature plain woman to blush 
which she did under Mr. Sylvester’s searching eye. 


8 4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ You have then been in the habit of visiting New 
Vork ? ” 

“ I have been there twice,” she returned evasively. 

4 Since my marriage ? ” 

44 Yes sir; ” with a firm closing of her lips. 

44 I did not know you were there or I should have in- 
sisted upon your remaining at my house.” 

“ Thank you,” said she with a quick triumphant glance 
at her demure little shadow, who looked back in amaze and 
was about to speak when Miss Belinda proceeded. “ My 
visits usually have been on business ; I should not think ot 
troubling Mrs. Sylvester.” And then he knew that his wife 
had been aware of those visits if he had not. 

But he refrained from testifying to his discovery. “ You 
speak of music,” said he, turning gently back to Paula. 
“ Have you a taste for it ? Would it make you happy to 
hear such music as your aunt tells about ? ” 

“ O yes, I can conceive nothing grander than to sit in a 
church whose every line is beauty and listen while the great 
organ utters its song of triumph or echoes in the wonderful 
way it does, the emotions you have tried to express and 
could not. I would give a whole week of my life on the 
hills, dear as it is, for one such hour, I think.” 

Mr. Sylvester smiled. “ It is a rare kind of coin to offer 
for such a simple pleasure, but it may meet with its accep- 
tance, nevertheless ; ” and in his look and in his voice there 
was an appearance of affectionate interest that completed the 
subjugation of the watchful Miss Belinda, who now became 


TWO MEN. 85 

doubly assured that whatever neglect had been shown her 
by her niece was not due to that niece’s husband. 

Mj. Sylvester recognized the effect he had produced and 
hastened to complete it, feeling that the good opinion of 
Miss Belinda would be valuable to any man. “ I have been 
a boy on these hills,” said he, “ and know what it is to long 
for what is beyond while enjoying what is present. You 
shall hear the organ my child.” And stopped, wondering to 
himself over the new sweet interest he seemed to take in the 
prospect of pleasures which he had supposed himself to have 
long ago exhausted. 

“ Hear the organ, I ? why that means — O what does it 
mean ?” she inquired, turning with a look' of beaming hope 
towards her aunt.. 

“ You must ask Mr. Sylvester,” that uncompromising 
lady replied, with a straightforward look at- the fire. 

And he with a smile told the blushing girl that accord- 
ing to his reading, mortals went blindfold into fairy-land ; 
and she understood what he meant and was silent, where- 
upon he turned the conversation upon more common-place 
subjects. 

For how could he tell her then of the intention that had 
awakened in his breast at the first glimpse of her grand 
young beauty. To make her his child, to bequeath to her 
the place of the babe that had perished in his arms three 
long years before — That meant to give Ona a care if not a 
rival in his affections, and Ona shrank from care, and was 
uot a subject for rivalry. And the if which this implied 


86 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


weighed heavily on his heart as moment after moment flew 
by, and he felt again the reviving power of an unsullied 
mind and an aspiring nature. 


X 


THE BARRED DOOR. 

** A school boy’s tale ; the wonder of an hour/' 

Byroh. 

“ Did you know that your niece was gifted with rare 
beauty as well as talents ? ” asked Mr. Sylvester of Miss Be- 
linda as a couple of hours or so later, they sat alone by the 
parlor fire, preparatory to his departure. 

“ No, that is,” she hastily corrected herself,” I knew she 
was very pretty of course, prettier by far than any of her 
mates, but I did not suppose she was what you call a beauty, 
or at least would be so considered by a person accustomed 
to New York society.” 

“ I do not know of a woman in New York who can boast 
of any such claims to transcendant loveliness. Such faces 
are rare outside of art, Miss Belinda; was Mrs. Fairchild a 
handsome woman ? ” 

“ She was my sister and if I may say so, my favorite sis- 
ter, but she was no more agreeable to the eye than some 
others of her family,” grimly returned the heavy browed spin- 
ster with a compression of her lips. “ What beauty Paula 
has inherited came from her father. Her chief charm in my 
eyes, however, springs from her pure nature and the unself- 
ish impulses of 1 ~r heart.” 


88 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“And in mine,” rejoined he quietly. Then with a sud- 
den change of tone as he realized the necessity of saying 
something definite to this woman in regard to his intentions 
toward the child, he remarked, “ Her great and unusual tal 
ents and manifest disposition to learn, demand as you say 
superior advantages to any she can have in a small country 
town like this, fruitful as it has already been to her undei 
your wise and fostering care and such shall she have ; but 
just when and how I cannot say till I have seen my wife and 
learned what her wishes are likely to be in regard to the sub- 
ject.” 

“ You are very kind, sir,” returned Miss Belinda. “ 1 
have no doubt as to the good-will of your intentions, and 
the child shall be prepared at once for a change.” 

“ And will the child” he exclaimed with a smile as Paula 
re-entered the room, “ be so kind as to give me her company 
in the walk I must now take to the cars ? ” 

“ Of course,” replied her aunt before the young girl could 
speak, “ we owe you that much attention I am sure.” 

And so it was that when he came to retrace his way 
through the village with its heavy memories, he had a guar- 
dian spirit at his side that robbed them of their power to 
sadden and oppress. 

“What shall I say for you to the grim city stieets when 
I get back ? ” inquired he as they hastened on over the snow 
covered road. 

“ Say to them from me ? O you may give them mj 
greeting,” she responded half shyly, half confidingly. Evi* 


TWO MEN. 


89 


dently for her he was one of those rare persons whose pres- 
ence is perfect freedom and with whom she could not only 
think her best but speak it also. “ I should like to make their 
acquaintance, but indeed they would have to do well to vi 
in attraction with these white roads girded by their silver 
limbed trees. The very rush of life must seem oppressive. 
So many hopes, so many fears, so many interests jostling you 
at every step! Yet the thought is exhilarating too; dont 
you find it so ? ” 

It was the first question she had asked him and he knew 
not how to reply. Her eyes were so confiding, he could not 
bear to shake her faith in his imagined superiority. Yet 
what thoughts had he ever cherished in walking the busy 
streets, save those connected with his own selfish hopes and 
fears, plans and operations ? “I have no doubt,” said he 
after a moment’s pause, “ that I have felt this exhilaration 
of which you speak. Certainly the hurrying masses in 
Broadway awaken a far different sensation in a man, than 
this solitary stretch of country road.” 

“ Yet the road has its companionships,” she murmured. 
‘ In the city one thinks most of men, but in the country, of 
God. Its very solitude corn-pels you.” 

“ Compels you” he involuntarily answered. And shud- 
dered as he said it, remembering days when he trod these 
very roads with anything but reverence in his heart for the 
Creator of the landscape before him. “ Not every one has 
the inner vision, my child, to see the love and wisdom back 
of the works, or rather most men have a vision so short il 


90 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


does not reach so far. Yet I think I can understand what 
you mean and might even experience your emotions if my 
eyes had leisure to explore this space and my thoughts to 
lise out of their usual depressing atmosphere of care and 
anxiety. You did not think I was a busy man, he continued,” 
observing her gaze of wonder. “ You thought riches brought 
ease ; if you ever come to think, ‘most of men ’ you will 
learn that the wealthy man is the greatest worker, for his 
rest comes not night or day.” 

She shook her - head with a sudden doubt. “ It is a 
problem,” she said, “ which my knowledge of geometry doe* 
not help me to solve.” 

“ No,” assented he “ and one in which even your fan- 
ciful soul would fail to find any poetry. But stop, Paula; 
isn’t this the place where I found you that day, and you 
showed me the view up the river ? ” 

“ Yes, and it was on that stone I sat ; it has a milk-white 
cushion now ; and there is where you stood, looking so tall 
and grand to my childish eyes ! The gates are of pearl now,” 
she said, pointing to the snow-covered slopes in the west. 
“ I wish the sky had been clear to-night and you could have 
seen the effect of a rosy sunset falling over those domes oi 
ice and snow.” 

“ It would leave me less to expect when I come again,” 
he responded almost gayly. “ The next time we will have 
the sunset, Paula.” 

She smiled and they hastened on, presently finding them- 
selves in the village streets. Suddenly she paused. “ Small 


TWO MEN. 91 

towns have their mysteries as well as great cities,” said she ; 
“we are not without ours, look.” 

He turned, followed with a glance the direction of her 
pointing finger and started in his sudden surprise. She had 
indicated to him the house whose ghostly and frowning 
front bore written across its grim gray boards, such an in- 
scription of painful remembrance. “ It is a solitary looking 
place, isn’t it ? ” she went on, innocent of the pain she was 
inflicting. “No one lives there or ever will, I imagine. Do 
you see that board nailed across the front door ? ” 

He forced himself to look. He did more, he fixed his 
eyes upon the desolate structure before him until the aspect 
of its huge unpainted walls with their long rows of sealed-up 
windows and high smokeless chimneys was impressed indel- 
libly upon his mind. The large front door with its weird 
and solemn barrier was the last thing upon which his eye 
rested. 

“ Yes,” said he, and involuntarily asked what it meant. 

“We do not know exactly,” she responded. “It was 
nailed across there by the men who followed Colonel Japha 
to the grave. Colonel Japha was the owner of the house,” 
she proceeded, too interested to observe the shadow which 
the utterance of that name had invoked upon his brow. 
“ He was a peculiar man I judge, and had suffered great 
wrongs they say ; at all events his life was very solitary and 
sad, and on his deathbed he made his neighbors promise him 
that they would carry out his body through that door and 
then seal it up against any further ingress or egress forever. 


92 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


His wishes were respected, and from that day to this no one 
has ever entered that door.” 

“ But the house ! ” stammered Mr. Sylvester in any- 
thing but his usual tone, “ surely it has not been deserted all 
these years ! ” 

“Ah,” said she, “ now we come to the greatest mystery 
of all.” And laying her hand timidly on his arm, she drew 
his attention to the form of a decrepit old lady just then ad- 
vancing towards them down the street. “ Do you see that 
aged figure ? ” she asked. “ Every evening at this hour, 
winter and summer, stormy weather or clear, she is seen to 
leave her home up the street and come down to this forsaken 
dwelling, open the worm-eaten gate before you, cross the 
otherwise untrodden garden and enter the house by a side 
door which she opens with a huge key she carries in her 
pocket. For just one hour by the clock she remains there, 
and then she is seen to issue in the falling dusk, with a 
countenance whose heavy dejection is in striking contrast to 
the expression of hope with which she invariably enteis. 
Why she makes this pilgrimage and for what purpose she se- 
cludes herself for a stated time each day in this otherwise 
deserted mansion, no man knows nor is it possible to deter- 
mine, for though she is a worthy woman and approachable 
enough on all other topics, on this she is absolutely mute.” 

Mr. Sylvester started and surveyed the woman as she 
passed with an anxious gaze. “ I know her,” he muttered ; 
“ she was a connection of — of the family, who inhabited this 
house.” He could not speak the name. 


TWO MEN . 


93 


44 Yes, so they say, and the owner of this house, though 
she does not live here. Did you notice how she looked at 
me ? She often does that, just as if she wanted to speak. 
But she always goes by and opens the gate as you see her 
now and takes out the big key and — ” 

“ Come away,” cried Mr. Sylvester with sudden impulse, 
seizing Paula by the hand and hurrying her down the street. 
u She is a walking goblin ; you must have nothing to do 
with such uncanny folk.” And endeavoring to turn off this 
irresistible display of feeling by a show of pleasantry he 
laughed aloud, but in a strained and unnatural way that 
made her eyes lift in unconscious amazement. 

“ You are infected by the atmosphere of unreality that 
pervades the spot,” said she, “I do not wonder.” And with 
the gentle perversity that sometimes affects the most thought- 
ful amongst us, she went on talking upon the unwelcome sub- 
ject. “ I know of some folks who invariably cross to the 
other side of the street at night, rather than go through the 
shadows of the two gaunt poplars which guard that house. 
Yet there has been no murder committed there or any great 
ciime that I know of, unless the disobedience of a daughter 
who ran away with a man her father detested, could be de- 
nominated by so fearful a word.” 

The set gaze with which Mr. Sylvester surveyed the 
landscape before him quavered a trifle and then grew hard 
and cold. And so,” said he in a tone meant more for him- 
self than her, “ even your innocent ears have been assailed 
by the gossip about Miss Japha.” 


94 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Gossip ! I have never thought of it as gossip, 1 ’ returned 
she, struck for the first time by the change in his appear- 
ance. “ It all happened so long ago it seems more like some 
quaint and ancient tale than a story of one of our neigh- 
Dors. Besides, the fact that a wilful girl ran away from the 
house of her father, with the man of her choice, is not such a 
dreadful one is it, though she never returned to its walls 
with her husband, and her father was so overwhelmed by 
the shock, he was never seen to smile again.” 

“ No,” said he, giving her a hurried glance of relief, “ I 
only wondered at the tenacity of old stories to engage the 
popular ear. I had supposed even the remembrance of Jac- 
queline Japha would have been lost in the long silence that 
has followed that one disobedient act.” 

“ And so it might, were it not for that closely shut house 
with the sinister bar across its chief entrance, inviting curi- 
osity while it effectually precludes all investigation. With 
that token ever before our eyes of a dead man’s implacable 
animosity, who can wonder that we sometimes ponder over 
the fate of her who was its object.” 

“ And no intimations of that fate have been ever received 
in Grotewell. For all that is known to the contrary, Jac- 
queline Japha may have preceded her father to the tomb.” 

Paula bowed her head, amazed at the gloomy tone in 
which this emphatic assertion was made by one whose sup- 
posed ignorance she had been endeavoring to enlighten. 
“ You knew her history before, then ” observed she, “ I beg 
your pardon.” 


TWO MEN. 


95 


M And it is granted,” said he with a sudden throwing ofl 
of the shadow that had enveloped him. “You must not 
mind my sudden lapses into gloom. I was never a cheerful 
man, that is, not since I — since my early youth I should say. 
And the shadows which are short at your time of life grow 
long and chilly at mine. One thing can illumine them 
though, and that is a child’s happy smile. You are a child 
to me ; do not deny me a smile, then, before I go.” 

“Not one nor a dozen,” cried she, giving him her hands 
in good-bye for they had arrived at the depot by this time 
and the sound of the approaching train was heard in the dis- 
tance. 

“ God bless you ! ” said he, clasping those hands with a 
father’s heartfelt tenderness. “ God bless my little Paula 
and make her pillow soft till we meet again ! ” Then as the 
train came sweeping up the track, put on his brightest look 
and added, “ If the fairy-godmother chances to visit you 
during my departure, don’t hesitate to obey her commands, 
if you want to hear the famous organ peal.” 

“ No, no,” she cried. And with a final look and smile 
he stepped upon the train and in another moment was 
whirled away from that place of many memories and a soli' 
taiy hope, 


XI. 


MISS STUYVESANT. 

“ She smiled ; but he could see arise 
Her soul from far adown her eyes.’ 

— Mrs. Browning. 

“ She is a beauty ; it is only right I should forewarn you 
of that.” 

“ Dark or light?” 

“ Dark; that is her hair and eyes are almost oriental in 
their blackness, but her skin is fair, almost as dazzling as 
yours, Ona.” 

Mrs. Sylvester threw a careless glance in the long mir- 
ror before which she was slowly completing her toilet, and 
languidly smiled. But whether at this covert compliment to 
her greatest charm or at some passing fancy of her own, it 
would be difficult to decide. “The dark hair and eyes come 
from her father,” remarked she in an abstracted way while 
she tried the effect of a bunch of snow-white roses at hei 
waist with a backward toss of her proud blonde head. “ His 
mother was a Greek. ‘ Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in 
the streets of Askelon,’ ” she exclaimed in a voice as nearly 
gay as her indolent nature would allow. For this lady of 
fashion was in one of her happiest moods. Her dress, a new 
one, fitted her to perfection and the vision mirrored in the 


TWO MEN , ; 


97 


glass before her was not lacking, so far as she could see 
in one charm that could captivate. “ Do you think she 
could fasten a ribbon, or arrange a bow ? ” she further in- 
quired. “ I should like to have some one about me with a 
Knack for helping a body in an emergency, if possible. 
Sarah is absolutely the destruction of any bit of ribbon she 
undertakes to handle. Look at that knot of black velvet 
over there for instance, wouldn’t you think a raw Irish girl 
just from the other side would have known better than to tie 
it with half the wrong side showing ? ” 

With the habit long ago acquired of glancing wherever 
her ivory finger chanced to point, the grave man of the 
world slowly turned his head full of the weightiest cares and 
oppressed by the burden of innumerable responsibilities, and 
surveyed the cluster of velvet bows thus indicated, with a 
mechanical knitting of the brows. 

“ I pay Sarah twenty-five dollars a month and that is the 
result,” his wife proceeded. “ Now if Paula — ” 

“Paula is not to come here as a waiting maid,” he 1 - hus- 
band quickly interposed, a suspicion of color just showing it- 
self for a moment on his cheek. 

“ If Paula,” his wife went on, unheeding the interruption 
gave by casting him a hurried glance over the shoulder 01 
her own reflection in the glass, “ had the taste in such mat- 
ters of some other members of our family and could manage 
to lend me a helping hand now and then, why I could al- 
most imagine I had my younger sister back with me again, 
who with her skill in making one look fit for the eyes of the 
world, was such a blessing to us in our @ld home.” 


98 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“I have no doubt Paula could be taught to be equally eh 
ficient,” her husband responded, carefully restraining any 
further show of impatience. “ She is bright, I am certain, 
and ribbon-tying is not such a very difficult art, is it ?” 

“ I don’t know about that ; by the way Sarah succeeds 1 
should say it was about on a par with the science of algebra 
or — what is that horrid study they used to threaten to inflict 
me with at the academy whenever I complained of a head 
ache ? Oh I remember — conic sections.” 

“ Well, well,” laughed her husband, “ she ought soon to 
to be an expert in it then ; Paula is a famous little mathe- 
matician.” 

A silence followed this response ; Mrs. Sylvester was fit- 
ting in her ear-rings. . “ I suppose,” said she when the opera- 
tion was completed, “ that the snow will prevent half the 
people from coming to-night.” It was a reception evening 
at the Sylvester mansion. “ But so long as Mrs. Fitzgerald 
ddfcs not disappoint me, I do not care. What do you think 
of the setting of these diamonds?” she inquired, leaning 
forward to look at herself more closely, and slowly shaking 
her head till the rich gems sparkled like fire. 

“ It is good,” came in short, quick tones from the lips of 
her husband. 

“ Well, I don’t know, there might be a shade more of en- 
amel on the edge of that ring. I shall speak to the jeweller 
about it to-morrow. But what were we talking about ? ” she 
dreamily asked, still turning her head from side to side before 
the mirror. 


TWO MEN. 


99 


We were talking about adopting your cousin in the 
place of our child who is dead,” replied her husband with 
some severity, pausing in the middle of the floor which he 
was pacing, to honor her with a steady glance. 

“ O yes ! Dear me ! what an awkward clasp that man has 
given to these rings after all, You will have to fasten them 
for me.” Then as he stepped forward with studied courtesy, 
yawned just a trifle and remarked, “ No one could ever take 
the place of one’s own child of course. If Geraldine had 
lived she would have been a blonde, her eyes were blue as 
sapphires.” 

He looked in his wife’s face and his hands dropped. 
He thought of the day when those eyes, blue as sapphires in- 
deed, flashed burning with death’s own fever, from the little 
crib in the nursery, while with this same cool and self-sat- 
isfied countenance, the wife and mother before him had 
swept down the broad stairs to her carriage, murmuring 
apologetically as she gathered up her train, “ O you needn’t 
trouble yourself to look after her, she will do very well with 
Sarah.” 

She may have thought of it too, for the least little bit of 
real crimson found its way through the rouge on her cheek 
as she encountered the stern look of his eye, but she only 
turned a trifle more towards the glass, saying, “ I forgot you 
do not admire the role of waiting maid. I will try and man- 
age them myself, seeing that you have banished Sarah.” 

He exerted his self-control and again for the thousandth 
time buried that ghastly memory out of sight, actually fore- 


too 


THE SWCRD OF DAMOCLES. 


ing himself to smile as he gently took her hand from her eaf 
and began deftly to fasten the rebellious ornaments. 

“ You mistake,” said he, “ love can ask any favor with- 
out hesitation. I do not object to waiting upon my own 
wife.” 

She gave him a little look which he obligingly took as a 
guerdon for this speech, and languidly held out her bracelets. 
As he stood clasping them on her arms, she quietly eyed him 
over from head to foot. “ I don’t know of a man who has 
your figure,” said she with a certain tone of pride in her 
voice ; “ it is well you married a wife who does not look alto- 
gether inferior beside you.” Then as he bowed with mock 
appreciation of the intended compliment, added with her 
usual inconsequence, “ I dare say it would give me some- 
thing to interest myself in. I don’t suppose she has a de- 
cent thing to wear, and the fact of her being a dark beauty 
would lend quite a new impulse to my inventive faculty. 
Mrs. Walker has a daughter with black eyes, but dear me, 
what a guy she does make of her ! ” 

With a sigh Mr. Sylvester turned to the window where 
he stood looking out at the heavy flakes of snow falling with 
slow and fluctuating movement between him and the row 
of brown stone houses in front. Paula considered as a milli- 
ner’s block upon which to try the effect of clothes ! 

“ Even Mrs. Fitzgerald with all her taste don’t know how 
to dress her child,” proceeded his wife, with a hurried, “ Be 
still, Cherry ! ” to the importunate bird in the cage. “ Now 
I should take as much pride in dressing any one under my 


TWO MEN. 


101 


charge as I would myself, provided the subject was likely to 
do credit to my efforts.” And finding the bird incorrigi- 
ble in his shrill singing, she moved over to the cage, where 
she stood balancing her white finger for the bird to peck 
at, with a pretty caressing motion of her lip, the little Gen 
aldine of the wistful blue eyes, had never seen. 

“ You are welcome to do what you please in such mat- 
ters,” was her husband’s reply. He was thinking again of 
that same little Geraldine ; a fall of snow like the present 
always made him think of her and her innocent query as to 
whether God threw down such big flakes to amuse little chil- 
dren. “ I give you carte blanche ,” said he with sudden em- 
phasis. 

Mrs. Sylvester paused in her attentions to the bird to 
give him a sharp little look which might have aroused his 
surprise if he had been fortunate enough to see it. But his 
back was towards her, and there was nothing in the lan- 
guidly careless tone with which she responded, to cause him 
to turn his head. “ I see that you would really like to have 
me entertain the child ; but — ” 

She paused, pursing up her lips to meet the chattering 
bird’s caress, while her husband in his impatience drummed 
with his fingers on the pane. 

— “ I must see her before I decide upon the length of her 
visit,” continued she, as weary with the sport she drew back 
to give herself a final look in the glass. “ Will jou please to 
hand me that shawl, Edward.” 

He turned with alacrity. In his relief he could have 


102 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


kissed the snowy neck held so erectly before him, as he drew 
around it the shawl he had hastily lifted from the chair a 4 , 
his side. But that would not have suited this calm and lan- 
guid beauty who disliked any too overt tribute to her charms 
and saved her caresses for her bird. Besides it would look 
like gratitude, and gratitude would be misplaced towards a 
wife who had just indicated her acceptance of his offer to 
receive a relative of her own into his house. 

“ She might as well come at once,” was her final remark, 
as satisfied at last with the lay of every ribbon she swept in 
finished elegance from the room. “ Mrs. Kittredge’s recep- 
tion comes off a week from Thursday, and I should like to 
see how a dark beauty with a fair skin would look in that 
new shade of heliotrope.” 

And so the battle was over and the victory won ; for Mrs. 
Sylvester for all her seeming indifference was never known to 
change a decision she had once made. As he realized the 
fact, as he meditated that ere long this very room which had 
been the scene of so much frivolity and the witness to so 
many secret heart-burnings, would reecho to the tread of 
the pure and innocent child, whose mind Lad flights un- 
known to the slaves of fashion, and in whose heart lay im- 
pulses of goodness that would satisfy the long smothered 
cravings of his awakened nature, he experienced a feeling of 
relenting towards the wife who had not chosen to thwart him 
in this the strongest wish of his childless manhood, and 
crossing to her dressing table, he dropped among its treas- 
ures a costly ring which he had been induced to purchase 


TWO MEN. 


103 


that day from an old friend who had fallen into want. “ She 
will wear it,” murmured he to himself, “ for its hue will make 
her hand look still whiter, and when I see it sparkle I will 
remember this hour and be patient.” Had he known that 
she had yielded to this wish out of a certain vague feeling of 
compunction for the disappointments she had frequently oc- 
casioned him and would occasion him again, he might have 
added a tender thought to the rich and costly gift with 
which he had just endowed her. 

“ I expect a young cousin of mine to spend the winter 
with me and pursue her studies,” were the first words that 
greeted his ears as an hour or so later he entered the parlor 
where his wife was entertaining what few guests had been 
anxious enough for a sight of Mrs. Sylvester’s newly fur- 
nished drawing-room, to brave the now rapidly falling snow. 
“ I hope that you and she will be friends.” 

Curious to see what sort of a companion his wife was 
thus somewhat prematurely providing for Paula, he hastily 
advanced towards the little group from which her voice had 
proceeded, and found himself face to face with a brown 
haired girl whose appealing glance and somewhat infantile 
mouth were in striking contrast to the dignity with which she 
carried her small head and managed her whole somewhat 
petite person. 

“Miss Stuyvesant ! my husband!” came in musical 
tones from his wife, and somewhat surprised to hear a name 
that but a moment before had been the uppermost in his 
mind, he bowed with courtesy and then asked if he was sn 


104 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


happy as to speak to a daughter of Thaddeus Stuyvfr 
sant. 

“ If it will give you especial pleasure I will say yes,* 1 
responded the little miss with a smile that irradiated her 
whole face. ‘ Do you know my father ? ” 

“ There are but few bankers in the city who have not 
that pleasure,’' replied he with an answering look of regard 
* I am especially happy to meet his daughter in my house 
to-night.” 

There was something in his manner of saying this and in 
the short inquiring glance which at every opportunity he 
cast upon her bright young face with its nameless charm of 
mingled appeal and reserve, that astonished his wife. 

“Miss Stuyvesant was in the carriage with Mrs. Fitzger- 
ald,” said that lady with a certain dignity she knew well how 
to assume. “ I am afraid if it had not been for that circum- 
stance we should not have enjoyed the pleasure of her pres- 
ence.” And with the rare tact of which she was certainly a 
mistress, as far as all social matters were concerned, she left 
the aspiring magnate of Wall Street to converse with the 
daughter of the man whom all New York bankers were ex- 
pected to know, and hastened to join a group of ladies dis- 
cussing ceramics before a huge placque of rarest cloissone. 

Mr. Sylvester followed her with his eyes; he had never 
seen her look more vivacious ; had the hope of seeing a 
young face at their board touched some secret chord in her 
nature as well as his ? Was she more of a woman than he 
imagined, and would she be, though in the most superficial of 


TWO MEN. 


105 


ways, a mother to Paula ? ” Flushed with the thought, he 
turned back to the little lady at his side. She was gazing 
in an intent and thoughtful way at an engraving of Dubufe’s 
“ Prodigal Son” that adorned the wall above her head. 
There was something in her face that made him ask : 

“ Is that a favorite picture of yours ? ” 

She smiled and nodded her small and delicate head. 

“Yes sir, it is indeed, but I was not looking at the pic- 
ture so much as at the face of that dark-haired girl that sits 
in the centre, with that far-away expression in her eyes. 
Do you see what I mean ? She is like none of the rest. Her 
form is before us, but her heart and her interest are in some 
distant clime or forsaken home to which the music mur- 
mured at her side recalls her. She has a soul above her 
surroundings, that girl ; and her face is indescribably pathetic 
to me. In the recesses of her being she carries a memory or 
a regret that separates her from the world and makes certain 
moments of her life almost holy.” 

“ You look deep,” said Mr. Sylvester, gazing down upon 
the little lady’s face with strongly awakened interest. “You 
see more perhaps than the painter intended.” 

“ No, no ; possibly more than the engraving expresses, 
i>ut not more than the artist intended. I saw the original 
once, when as you remember it was on exhibition here. I 
was a wee thing, but I never forgot that girl’s face. It spoke 
more than all the rest to me ; perhaps because I so much 
honor reserve in one who holds in his breast a great pain or 
a great hope.” 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


lOt) 

The eye that was resting upon her, softened indescriba* 
bly. “ You believe in great hopes,” said he. 

The little figure seemed to grow tall ; and her face looked 
almost beautiful. “What would life be without them? 
she answered. 

“ True,” returned Mr. Sylvester; and entering into the 
conversation with unusual spirit, was astonished to find how 
young she was and yet how thoroughly bright and self- 
possessed. 

“ Lovely girls are cropping up around me in all direc- 
tions,” thought he ; “I shall have to correct my judgment 
concerning our young ladies of fashion if I encounter many 
more as sensible and earnest-hearted as this.” And for some 
reason his brow grew so light and his tone so cheerful that 
the ladies were attracted from all parts of the room to hear 
what the demure Miss Stuyvesant could have to say to the 
grave master of the house, to call forth such smiles of en- 
joyment upon his usually melancholy countenance. 

Take it all together, the occasion though small was one 
of the pleasantest of the season, and so Mrs. Sylvester an- 
nounced when the last carriage had driven away, and she 
and her husband stood in the brilliantly lighted library, sur- 
veying a new cabinet of rare and antique workmanship 
which had been that day installed in the place of honor be- 
neath my lady’s picture. 

“ I thought you seemed to enjoy it Ona,” her husband 
remarked. 

“O, it was an occasion of triumph to me,” she murmured 


TWO MEN. 107 

It is the first time a Stuyvesant has crossed our threshold, 
mo?i cher” 

“ Ha," he exclaimed, turning upon her a brisk displeased 
look. He was proud and considered no man his superior in 
a social sense. “ Do you acknowledge yourself a parvenue 
that you rejoice at the entrance of any one special person 
into your doors ? ” 

“ I thought," she replied somewhat mortified, “ that you 
betrayed unusual pleasure yourself at her introduction." 

“ That may be ; I was glad to see her here, for her father 
is one of the most influential directors in the bank of which 
I shortly expect to be made president." 

The nature of this disclosure was calculated to be espe- 
cially gratifying to her, and effectually blotted out any re- 
membrance of the break by which it had been introduced. 
After a few hasty inquiries, followed by a scene of quite 
honest mutual congratulation, the gratified wife left her hus- 
band to put out the lights himself or call Samuel as he might 
choose, and glided up stairs to delight the curious Sarah 
with the broken soliloquies and inconsequent self-commun- 
ings which formed another of her peculiar habits. 

As for her husband, he stood a few minutes where she 
left him, abstractedly eying the gorgeous vista that spread 
out before him down to the further mirror of the elaborate 
diawing-room, thinking perhaps with a certain degree of 
pride, of the swiftness with which he had risen to opulence 
and the certainty with which he had conquered position in 
the business as well as in the social world when he could 


io8 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


speak of such a connection with Thaddeus Stuyvesant as a 
project already matured. Then with a hasty movement 
and a quick sigh which nothing in his prospects actual oi 
apparent would seem to warrant, he proceeded to put out 
the lights, my lady’s picture shining' with less and less im- 
portunity as the flickering jets disappeared, till all was dark 
save for the faint glimmer that came in from the hall, a glim- 
mer just sufficient to show the outlines of the various arti- 
cles of furniture scattered about — and could it be the tall 
figure of the master himself standing in the centre of the 
room with his palms pressed against his forehead in an atti- 
tude of sorrow or despair ? Yes, or whose that wild mur- 
mur, “ Is it never given to man to forget ! ” Yet no, or 
who is this that calm and dignified, steps at this moment 
from the threshold ? It must have been a dream, a phantasy. 
This is the master of the house who with sedate and regular 
step goes up flight after flight of the spiral staircase, and 
neither pauses or looks back till he reaches the top of the 
house where he takes out a key from his pocket, and opening 
a certain door, goes in and locks it behind him. It is his 
secret study or retreat, a room which no one is allowed to 
enter, the mystery of the house to the servants and some- 
thing more than that to its inquisitive mistress. What he 
does there no man knows, but to-night if any one had been 
curious enough to listen, they would have heard nothing more 
ominous than the monotonous scratch of a pen. He was writ- 
ing to Miss Belinda and the burden of his letter was that on 
a certain day he named, he was coming to take away Paula 


XII. 


MISS BELINDA MAKES CONDITIONS. 

“ For of the soul the body form doth take, 

For soul is form, and doth the body make.” 

Spknskk. 

Miss Belinda was somewhat taken aback at the propo- 
sal of Mr. Sylvester to receive Paula into his own house. 
She had not anticipated any such result to her efforts ; the 
utmost she had .expected was a couple of years or so of in- 
struction in some state Academy. Nor did she know whether 
she was altogether pleased at the turn affairs were taking. 
From all she had heard, her niece Ona was, to say the least, 
a frivolous woman, and Paula had a mind too noble to be 
subjected to the deteriorating influence of a shallow and 
puerile companionship. Then the child had great beauty ; 
Mr. Sylvester who ought to be a judge in such matters had 
declared it so, and what might not the adulation of the 
thoughtless and the envy of the jealous, do towards belittling 
a nature as yet uncontaminated. 

“We ought to think twice,” she said to Miss Abby with 
gome bitterness, who on the contrary never having thought 
once was full of the most childish hopes concerning a result 
which she considered with a certain secret complacency she 


IIO 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


would not have acknowledged for the world, had been very 
much furthered by her own wise recommendations to Mr. 
Sylvester in the beginning of his visit. Yet notwithstanding 
her doubts Miss Belinda allowed such preparations to be 
made as she considered necessary, and even lent her hand 
which was deft enough in its way, to the task of enlarging 
the child’s small wardrobe. As for Paula, the thought of 
visiting the great city with the dear friend whose image had 
stood in her mind from early childhood as the impersona- 
tion of all that was noble, generous and protecting, was 
more than joyful ; it was an inspiration. Not that she did 
not cling to the affectionate if somewhat quaint couple who 
had befriended her childhood and sacrificed their comfort to 
her culture and happiness. But the chord that lies deeper 
than gratitude had been struck, and fond as were her mem- 
ories of the dear old home, the charm of that deep “ My 
child,” with its hint of fatherly affection, was more than her 
heart could stand ; and no spot, no not the realms of fairy- 
land itself, looked so attractive to her fancy as that far fire- 
side in an unknown home where she might sit with cousin 
Ona and alternately with her exert her wit to beguile the 
smile to his melancholy lips. 

When therefore upon the stated day, Mr. Sylvester made 
his second appearance at the little cottage in Grotewell, it 
was to find Paula radiant, Miss Abby tearfully exultant and 
Miss Belinda — O anomaly of human nature — silent and 
severe. Attributing this however to her very natural regret 
at parting with Paula, he entered into all the arrangements 


TWO MEN. 


I II 

for their departure on the following morning without a sus- 
picion of the real state of her mind, nor was he undeceived 
until the day was nearly over and they sat down to have a 
few minutes of social conversation before the early toa. 

They had been speaking on some local topic involving a 
question of right and wrong, and Mr. Sylvester’s ears were 
yet thrilling to the deep ringing tones with which Paula ut- 
tered the words, “ I do not see how any man can hesitate 
an instant when the voice of his conscience says no. I 
should think the very sunlight would daunt him at the first 
step of his foot across the forbidden line,” when Miss Be- 
linda suddenly spoke up and sending Paula out of the room 
on some trivial pretext, addressed Mr. Sylvester without re- 
serve. 

“ I have something to say to you, sir, before you take 
from my home the child of my care and affection.” 

Could he have guessed what that something was that he 
should turn with such a flush of sudden anxiety to meet her 
determined gaze. 

“ The rules of our life here have been simple,” contin- 
ued she in a tone of voice which those who knew her well 
recognized as belonging to her uncompromising moods. 
l * To do our duty, love God and serve our neighbor. Paula 
has been brought up to reverence those rules in simplicity 
and honor ; what will your gay city life with its hollow de- 
vices for pleasure and its loose hold on the firm principles of 
life, do for this innocent soul, Mr. Sylvester ? ” 

“The city,” he said firmly but with a troubled underton* 


1 12 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


in his voice that was not unnoted by the watchful wo. 
man, “ is a vast caldron of mingled good and evil. She 
will hear of more wrong doing, and be within the reach of 
more self-denying virtue, than if she had remained in this 
village alone with the nature that she so much loves. The 
tree of knowledge bears two kinds of fruit, Miss Belinda ; 
would you therefore hinder the child from approaching its 
branches ? ” 

“ No, sir; I am not so weak as to keep a child in swad- 
dling-clothes after the period of infancy is past, neither am 1 
so reckless as to set her adrift on an unknown sea without a 
pilot to guide her. Your wife — ” she paused and fixed an 
intent look upon the flames leaping before her. “ Ona is my 
neice,” she resumed in a lower tone of voice, “ and I feel en- 
titled to speak with freedom concerning her. Is she such 
a guide as I would choose for a young girl just entering 
a new sphere in life ? From all I have heard, I should 
judge she was somewhat over-devoted to this world and 
its fashions.” 

Mr. Sylvester flushed painfully, but seeing that any soft- 
ening of the truth would be wholly ineffectual with this 
woman, replied in a candid tone, “ Ona is the same now as 
she was in the days of her girlhood. If she loves the world 
too well she is not without her excuse; from her birth it has 
strewn nothing but roses in her path.” 

u Humph ! ” came from the lips of the energetic spinster. 
Then witli a second stern glance at the fire, continued, 
4 ‘ Another question, Mr. Sylvester. Does your wife consent 


TWO MEN. 


1*3 

to receive my neice into her house, for the indefinite length 
of time which you mention, from interest in the girl herself 
or indeed from any motive I should judge worthy of Paula 
It is a leading question I know, but this is no time for nice* 
ties of speech.” 

“ Miss Belinda,” replied he, and his voice was firm 
though his fingers slightly trembled where they rested upon 
the arms of his chair, “ I will try and forget for a moment 
that Ona is my wife, and frankly confide to you that any 
such motive on her part, as would meet with your entire ap- 
proval, must not be expected from a woman who has never 
hilly recognized the solemn responsibilities of life. That 
she will be kind to Paula I have no doubt, that she may even 
learn to take an interest in her for her own sake, is also very 
possible, but that she will ever take your place towards her 
as guide or instructor, I neither anticipate nor would feel 
myself justified in leading you to.” 

The look which Miss Belinda cast him was anything 
but reassuring. “ And yet,” said she, “ you will take away 
my darling and give her up to an influence that can not be 
for good, or your glance would not be so troubled or your 
lip so uncertain. You would set . her young feet in a path 
where the very flowers are so thick they conceal its tendency 
and obscure its dangers. Mr. Sylvester you are a man who 
has seen life with naked eyes, and must recognize its re- 
sponsibilities ; dare you take this Paula, whom you have seen, 
out of the atmosphere of truth and purity in which she has 
been raised, and give her over to the enervating influences 


H4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


of folly and fashion ? Will you assume the risk and brave 
the consequences? ” 

As though an electric shock had touched the nerve of his 
nature, Mr. Sylvester hastily rose and moved in a restless 
manner to the window. It was his favorite refuge in any 
time of sudden perplexity or doubt, and this was surely ar 
occasion for both. 

“Miss Belinda,” he began and then paused, looking out 
on the hills of his boyhood, every one of which spoke to him 
at that moment with a force that almost sickened his heart 
and benumbed the faculties of his mind ; “ I recognize the 
love which leads you to speak in this way, and I bow before 
it, but — ” here his tongue faltered again, that ready tongue 
whose quick and persuasive eloquence on public occasions 
had won for him the name of Silver-speech among his friends 
and admirers — “but there are others who love your Paula 
also, love her with a yearning that only the childless can 
feel or the disappointed appreciate. I had hoped — ” here 
he left the window and approached her side, “ to do more 
for Paula than to give her the temporal benefit of a luxur- 
ious home and such instruction as her extraordinary talents 
demand. If Ona upon seeing and knowing the child had 
found she could love her, I had intended to ask you to yield 
her to us unreservedly and forever, in short to make her my 
child in place of the daughter I have lost. But now — ” with 
a quick gesture he began pacing the floor and left the sen« 
tence unfinished. 

Miss Belinda’s eyes which were of a light grey, wholly 


TWO MEN . 


US 

without beauty but with strange flashes of expression ir 
them, left the fire and fell upon his face, and a tear of real 
feeling gathered beneath her lids. 

“ I had no idea,” said he, “ that you cherished any such 
intention as that. If I had I might have worded my appre 
hensions differently. The yearning feeling of which you 
speak, I can easily understand, also the strength of the deter- 
mination it must take on the part of a man like yourself, to 
give up a hope of this nature. Yet — ’’ Seeing him pause in 
his hurried pacing and open his lips as if to speak, she defer- 
tially stopped. 

“ Miss Belinda,” said he, in the firm and steadfast way 
more in keeping with his features than his agitated manner 
of a moment before, “ I cannot give it up. The injury it 
would do me is greater than the harm, which one of Paula’s 
lofty nature would be apt to acquire in any atmosphere into 
which she might chance to be introduced. She is not a 
child, Miss Belinda, though we allude to her as such. The 
texture of those principles which you have instilled into her 
breast, is of no such weak material as to give way to the first 
petty breeze that blows. Paula’s house will stand, while 
mine — ” 

He paused and gave way to a momentary struggle, but 
that over, he set his lips firmly together and the last vestige 
of irresolution vanished. Sitting down by her side, he 
turned his face upon her, and for the first time she realized 
the power which with one exception he had always ex- 
erted over the minds of others. “ Miss Belinda,” said he, 


Il6 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

u I am going to give you an evidence of my trust ; I am go* 
ing to leave with you the responsibility of Paula’s future. 
She shall go with me, and learn, if she can, to love me and 
mine, but she shall also be under obligations to open her 
heart to you on all matters that concern her life and happi- 
ness in my house, and the day you see any falling off in her 
pure and upright spirit, you shall demand her return, and 
though it tears the heart from my breast, I will yield her up 
without question or parley as I am a gentleman and a Chris- 
tian. Does that content you ? ” 

“ It certainly ought to, sir. No one could ask more, I 
am sure,” returned the other in a voice somewhat unsteady 
for her. 

“ It is opening my house to the gaze of a stranger,” said 
he, “ for I desire you to command Paula to withhold noth- 
ing that seriously affects her ; but my confidence in you is 
unbounded and I am sure that whatever you may learn in 
this way, will be held as sacred by you as though it were 
buried in a tomb.” 

“ It certainly will, sir.” 

“As for the dearer hope which I have mentioned, time 
and the condition of things must decide for us. Meanwhile 
I shall strive to win a father’s place in her heart, if only to 
build myself a refuge for the days that are to come. You 
see I speak frankly, Miss Belinda ; will you give me some 
i token that you are not altogether dissatisfied with the resull 
of this conversation ? ” 

With the straightforward if somewhat blunt action that 


TWO MEN . 


117 

characterized all her movements, she stretched out hei 
hand, which he took with something more than his usual 
higl -bred courtesy. “ With you at the wheel,” said she, 
u I think I may trust my darling, even to the whirl and 
follies of such a society as I know Ona loves. A man who 
can so command himself, ought to be a safe guide to pioneer 
others.” 

And the considerate gentleman bowed ; but the frank 
smile that h'jiled her genial clasp had somehow vanished, 
and from the sudden cloud that at that moment swept over 
the roseate heavens, fell a shadow that left its impress on his 
lip long after the cloud itself had departed. 

An hour or so had passed. The fire was burning brightly 
on the hearthstone, illumining with a steady glow the array 
of stuffed birds, worsted samplers and old-fashioned portraits 
with which the walls were adorned, but reserving its richest 
glow and fullest irradiation for the bended head of Paula, 
who seated on a little stool in the corner of the hearth, was 
watching the rise and fall of the flickering flames. 

She had packed her little trunk, had said good-bye to all 
her neighboring friends and was now sitting on the old 
hearthstone, musing upon the new life that was about to 
open before her. It was a happy musing, as the smile that 
vaguely dimpled her cheeks and brightened her eyes beneath 
their long lashes, amply testified. As Mr. Sylvester watched 
her from the opposite side of the hearth where he was sit- 
ting alone with his thoughts, he felt his heart sink with 
apprehension at the fervor of anticipation with which she 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


tl8 

evidently looked forward to the life in the new home 
“ The young wings think to gain freedom,” thought he 
“when they are only destined to the confinement of a 
gilded cage.” 

He was so silent and looked so sad, Paula with a certain 
sort of sensitiveness to any change in the emotional atmos- 
phere surrounding her, which was one of her chief character- 
istics, hastily looked up and meeting his eye fixed on her 
with that foreboding glance, softly arose and came and sat 
down by his side. “ You look tired,” murmured she ; “ the 
long ride after a day of business care has been too much for 
you.” 

It was the first word of sympathy with his often over- 
wearied mind and body, that had greeted his ears for years. 
It made his eyes moisten. 

“ I have been a little overworked,” said he, “ for the last 
two months, but I shall soon be myself again. What were 
you thinking of, Paula ? ” 

“What was I thinkingof?” repeated she, drawing her 
chair nearer to his in her loving confidence. “ I was thinking 
what wonders of beauty and art lay in that great kernel 
which you call the city. I shall see lovely faces and noble 
'orms. I shall wander through halls of music, the echo of 
whose songs may have come to me in the sob of the river 
or the sigh of the pines, but whose notes in all their beauty 
and power have never been heard by me even in my 
dreams. I shall look on great men and touch the gar- 
ments of thoughtful women. I shall see life in its fullness 


TWO MEN . 


l 9 


as I have felt nature in its mightiness, and my heart will be 
satisfied at last.” 

Mr. Sylvester drew a deep breath and his eyes burned 
strangely in the glow of the firelight. “You expect high 
things,” said he ; “ did you ever consider that the life in a 
great city, with its ceaseless rush and constant rivalries, must 
be often strangely petty in despite of its artistic and social 
advantages ? ” 

“ All life has its petty side,” said she, with a sweet arch 
look. “ The eagle that cleaves the thunder-cloud, must some- 
times stop to plume its wings. I should be sorry to lose 
the small things out of existence. Even we in the face of that 
great sunset appealing to us from the west, have to pile up 
the firewood on the hearth and set the table for supper.” 

“ But fashion, Paula,” he pursued, concealing his wonder 
at the maturity of mind evinced by this simple child of na- 
ture, “that inexorable power that rules the very souls ol 
women who once step within the magic circle of her realm ! 
have you never thought of her and the demands that she 
makes on the time and attention even of the worshippers ol 
the good and the true ? ” 

“ Yes, sometimes,” she returned with a repetition of her 
arch little smile, “ when I put on a certain bonnet I have, 
which Aunt Abby modeled over from one of my grandmoth- 
er s. Fashion is a sort of obstinate step-dame I imagine, 
whom it is less trouble to obey than to oppose. I don’t be- 
lieve I shall quarrel with Fashion if she will only promise tc 
keep her hands off my soul.” 


120 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ But if — ” with a pause, “ she asks your all, what then ? ” 

“ I shall consider that I am in a country of democratic 
principles,” she laughed, “and beg to be excused from ac- 
ceding to the tyrannical demands of any autocrat male 01 
female.” 

“You have been listening to Miss Belinda,” said he; 
“ she is also opposed to all and any tyrannical measures.” 
Then with a grave look from which all levity had fled, he 
leaned toward the young girl and gently asked, “ Do you 
know that you are a very beautiful girl, Paula ? ” 

She flushed, looked at him in some surprise and slowly 
drooped her head. “ I have been told I looked like my 
father,” said she, “and I know that means something very 
kind.” 

“ My child,” said he, with gentle insistence, “ God has 
given you a great and wonderful gift, a treasure-casket of 
whose worth you scarcely realize the value. I tell you this 
myself, first because I prize your beauty as something quite 
sacred and pure, and secondly because you are going where 
you will hear words of adulation, whose folly and bluntness 
will often offend your ears, unless you carry in your soul 
some talisman to counteract their effect.” 

“ I understand,” said she, “ I know what you mean. I 
will remember that the most engaging beauty is nothing 
without a pure mind and a good heart.” 

“ And you will remember too,” continued he, “ that I 
blessed your innocent head to-night, not because it is circled 
by the roses of a youthful and %esh loveliness, but because 


TWO MEN 


21 


of the pure mind and good heart I see shining in your eyes.* 
And with a fond but solemn aspect he reached out his hand 
and laid it on her ebon locks. 

She bowed her head upon her breast. “ I will never for- 
get,” said she, and the firelight fell with a softening glow on 
the tears that trembled from her eye-lashes. 


XIII. 


THE END OF MY LADY’S PICTl/RE. 

“ Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.” —Pop® 

Mrs. Sylvester was spending an evening at home 
This was something so unusual for this august lady of fash* 
ion to indulge in, that she found it difficult not to fall asleep 
in the huge crimson-backed chair in which she had chosen 
to ensconce' herself. Not that she had desisted from mak- 
ing every effort known to mortal woman to keep herself 
awake and if possible amused till the expected travellers 
should arrive. She had played with her bird till the spoiled 
pet had himself protested, ducking his head under his wing 
and proceeding without ceremony to make up his little 
feather bed, as cunning Geraldine used to call the round, 
fluffy ball into which he rolled himself at night. More than 
that, she had looked over her ornaments and taken out such 
articles as she thought could be spared for Paula, to say 
nothing of playing a bar or so from the last operatic sensa- 
tion, and laboriously cutting open the leaves of the new mag- 
azine. But it was all of no use, and the heavy white lids 
were slowly falling, when the bell rang and Mr. Bertram 
Mandeville was announced, or rather Bertram Sylvester as 
he now chose to be called. 


TWO MEN. 


123 


It was a godsend to her as she politely informed him 
upon his entrance ; and though in his secret heart he felt 
anything but God sent — he was not of a make to appreciate 
his uncle’s wife at her very evident value — he consented to 
remain and assist her in disposing of the evening till Mr. 
Sylvester should return. 

“ He is going to bring a pretty girl with him,” remarked 
she, in a tone of some interest, “ a cousin of mine from 
Grotewell. I should like to have you see her.” 

“ Thank you,” replied he, his mind roaming off at the 
suggestion, into the region of a certain plain little music- 
room where the clock on the mantel ticked to the beating of 
his own heart. And for ten minutes Mrs. Sylvester had the 
pleasure of filling the room with a stream of easy talk, in 
which Grotewell, dark beauties, the coming Seventh Regi- 
ment reception, the last bit of gossip from London, and the 
exact situation of the Madison Bank formed the principal 
topics. 

To the one last mentioned, it having taken the form of a 
question, he was forced to reply; but the simple locality hav- 
ing been learned, she rambled easily on, this time indulging 
him with a criticism upon the personal appearance of certain 
business gentlemen who visited the house, ending with the 
somewhat startling declaration : 

“If Edward were not the fine appearing gentleman that 
he undoubtedly is, I should feel utterly out of place in these 
handsome parlors. Anything but to see an elegant and 
modern home, decorated with the costliest works of art, and 


124 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


filled with bijouterie of the most exquisite delicacy, pre- 
sided over by a plain and common-place woman or a bald- 
headed and inferior-looking man. The contrast is too vivid , 
works of the highest art do not need such a startling com- 
parison to bring out their beauty. Now if Edward stood 
.‘in the throne- room of a palace, he would somehow make 
it seem to others as a handsome set off to his own face and 
figure.” 

This was all very wife-like if somewhat unnecessary, and 
Bertram could have listened to it with pleasure, if she had 
not cast the frequent and sidelong glances at the mirror, 
which sufficiently betrayed the fact that she included herself 
in this complacent conclusion ; as indeed she may have con- 
sidered herself justified in doing, husband and wife being 
undoubtedly of one flesh. As it was, he maintained an im- 
movable countenance, though he admired his uncle as much 
as she did, and the conversation gradually languished till the 
white somnolent lids of the lady again began to show certain 
premonitory signs of drooping, when suddenly they were both 
aroused by the well known click of a latch-key in the door, 
and in another moment Mr. Sylvester’s voice was heard in 
the hall, saying, in tones whose cheery accents made his 
wife’s eyes open in surprise — 

‘‘Welcome home, my dear.” 

“ They have come,” murmured Mrs. Sylvester rising with 
a look of undeniable expectation. Had Paula not been a 
beauty she would have remained seated. 

“ Yes, we have come,” was heard in hearty tones from 


TWO MEN. 


125 


the doorway, and Mr. Sylvester with a proud look which 
Bertram long remembered, ushered into their presence a 
young girl whose simple cloak and bonnet in no wise pre- 
vented Mrs. Sylvester from recognizing the somewhat un- 
common beauty she had been led to expect. 

“ Paula, this is your cousin Ona, and — Ah, Bertram, glad 
to see you — this is my only nephew, Mr. Sylvester. 

The young girl, lost in the sudden glamour of numerou ' 
lights, shining upon splendors such as she may have dreamed 
of over the pages of Irving’s Alhambra, but certainly had 
never before seen, blushed with very natural embarrassment, 
but yet managed to bestow a pretty enough greeting upon 
the elegant woman and handsome youth, while Ona after 
the first moment of almost involuntary hesitation, took in 
hers the two trembling hands of her youthful cousin and 
actually kissed her cheek. 

“ I am not given to caresses as you know,” she afterwards 
explained in a somewhat apologetic tone to her husband ; 
“ and anything like an appeal for one on the part of a child 
or an inferior, I detest ; but her simple way of holding out her 
hand disarmed me, and then such a face demands a certain 
amount of homage, does it not? ” And her husband in his 
surprise, was forced to acknowledge to himself, that as closely 
as he had studied his wife’s nature for ten years, there were 
certain crooks and turns in it which even he had never pene- 
trated. 

“ You look dazzled,” that lady exclaimed, gazing not nn« 


26 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


kindly into the young girl’s face ; “ the sudden glare of so 
much gas-light has bewildered you.” 

“I do not think it is that,” returned Paula with a frank 
and admiring look at the gorgeous room and the circle of 
pleasant faces about her. “ Sudden lights I can bear, but 1 
have come from a little cottage on the hill-side and the mag- 
nificence of nature does not prepare you for the first sudden 
view of the splendors of art.” 

Mrs. Sylvester smiled and cast a side glance of amuse- 
ment at Bertram. “ You admire our new hangings I see,” 
remarked she with an indulgence of the other’s n&iveti that 
greatly relieved her husband. 

But in that instant a change had come across Paula ; the 
simple country maid had assimilated herself with the sur- 
roundings, and with a sudden grace and dignity that were 
unstudied as they were charming, dropped her eyes from her 
cousin’s portrait — that for some reason seemed to shine with 
more than its usual insistence — and calmly replied, “ I ad- 
mire all beautiful color ; it is my birthright as a Walton, to 
do so, I suppose.” 

Mrs. Sylvester was a Walton also and therefore smiled; 
but her husband, who had marked with inward distrust, 
the sudden transformation in Paula, now stepped forward 
with a word or two of remark concerning his appetite, a 
prosaic allusion that led to the rapid disappearance of the 
ladies upstairs and a short but hurried conversation between 
the two gentlemen. 

“ I have brought you a sealed envelope from the office,” 


TWO MEN . 


12 


said Bertram, who, in accordance with his uncle’s advice, 
had already initiated himself into business by assuming the 
position of clerk in the office of the wealthy speculator. 

“ Ah,” returned his uncle hastily opening it. 1 As I ex- 
pected, a meeting has been held this day by the board of 
Directors of the Madison Bank, a vote was cast, my proxy 
did his duty and I am duly elected President. Bertram, we 
know what that means,” smiled he, holding out his hand with 
an affectionate warmth greatly in advance of the emotion dis- 
played by him on a former occasion. 

“ I hope so indeed,” young Bertram responded. “ An in- 
crease of fortune and honor for you, though you seem to 
have both in the fullest measure already, and a start in the 
new life for me to whom fortune and honor mean happi- 
ness.” 

A smile younger and more full of hope than any he had 
seen on his uncle’s face for years, responded to this burst. 
“ Bertram,” said he, “ since our conversation of a couple of 
weeks ago something has occurred which somewhat alters 
the opinions I then expressed. If you have patience equal 
to your energy, and a self-control that will not put to shame 
your unbounded trust in women, I think I can say God- 
speed to your serious undertaking, with something like a 
good heart. Women are not all frivolous and foolish- 
minded ; there are some jewels of simple goodness and 
faith yet left in the world.” 

“ Thank God for your conversion,” returned his nephew 
gmiling, “ and if this lovely girl whom you have just intro* 


128 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


duced to me, is the cause of it, then thank God for hei 
also." 

His uncle bowed with a giavity almost solemn, but the 
ladies returning at this moment, he refrained from further 
reply. After supper, to which unusual meal Mr. Sylvester 
insisted upon his nephew remaining, the two gentlemen 
again drew apart. 

“ If you have decided upon buying the shares I have 
mentioned," said the former, “you had better get your 
money in a position to handle at once. I shall wish to 
present you to Mr. Stuyvesant to-morrow, and I should like 
to be able to mention you as a future stockholder in the 
bank." 

“ Mr. Stuyvesant ! " exclaimed Bertram, ignoring the 
rest of the sentence. 

“Yes," returned his uncle with a smile, “ Thaddeus 
Stuyvesant is the next largest stockholder to myself in the 
Madison Bank, and his patronage is not an undesirable 
one. 

“ Indeed — I was not aware — excuse me, I should be 
happy," stammered the young man. “ As for the money, it 
is all in Governments and is at your command whenever 
you please." 

“ That is good, I’ll notify you when I’m ready for the 
transfer. And now come," said he, with a change from his 
deep business tone to the lighter one of ordinary social con- 
verse, “ forget for a half hour that you have discarded the 
name of Mandeville, and give us an aria or a sonata from 


TWO MEN. I29 

Mendelssohn before those hands have quite lost their cun- 
ning.” 

“ But the ladies,” inquired the youth glancing towards 
the drawing-room where Mrs. Sylvester was giving Paula 
her first lesson in ceramics. 

“ Ah, it is to see how the charm will act upon my shy 
country lassie, that I request such a favor.” 

“ Has she never heard Mendelssohn ? ” 

“ Not with your interpretation.” 

Without further hesitation the young musician proceeded 
to the piano, which occupied a position opposite to my lady’s 
picture in this anomalous room denominated by courtesy 
the library. In another instant, a chord delicate and ringing, 
disturbed the silence of the long vista, and one of Mendels- 
sohn’s most exquisite songs trembled in all its delicious har- 
mony through these apartments of sensuous luxury. 

Mr. Sylvester had seated himself where he could see the 
distant figure of Paula, and leaning back in his chair, watched 
for the first startled response on her part. He was not dis- 
appointed. At the first note, he beheld her spirited head 
turn in a certain wondering surprise, followed presently by 
her whole quivering form, till he could perceive her face, 
upon which were the dawnings of a great delight, flush 
and pale by turns, until the climax of the melody being 
reached, she came slowly down the room, stretching out her 
hands like a child, and breathing heavily as if her ecstacy of 
toy in its impotence to adequately express itself, had caught 
an expression from pain. 


130 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

* 0 Mr. Sylvester ! ” was all she said as she reached tha\ 
gentleman’s side; but Bertram Mandeville recognized the 
accents of an unfathomable appreciation in that simple ex- 
clamation, and struck into a grand old battle-song that had 
always made his own heart beat with something of the fire 
of ancient chivalry under its breastplate of modern broad- 
cloth. 

“ It is the voice of the thunder clouds when they marshal 
for battle ! ” exclaimed she at the conclusion. “ I can hear 
the cry of a righteous struggle all through the sublime har- 
mony.” 

“ You are right ; it is a war-song ancient as the time of 
battle-axes and spears,” quoth Bertram from his seat at the 
piano. 

“ I thought I detected the flashing of steel,” returned 
she. “ O what a world lies in those simple bits of ivory ! ” 

“ Say rather in the fingers that sweep them,” uttered Mr. 
Sylvester. “ You will not hear such music often.” 

“ I am glad of that,” she cried simply, then in a quick 
conscious tone explained, “ I mean that the hearing of such 
music makes an era in our life, a starting-point for thoughts 
that reach away into eternity ; we could not bear such ex- 
periences often, it would confuse the spirit if not deaden its 
enjoyment. Or so it seems to me,” she added naively, 
glancing at her cousin who now came sweeping in from the 
further room, where she had been trying the effect of a 
change in the arrangement of two little pet monstrosities of 
Japanese ware. 


TWO MEN. 


131 

44 What seems to you ? ” that lady inquired. “ 0, Mr. 
Mandeville’s playing ? I beg pardon, Sylvester is the name 
by which you now wish to be addressed I suppose. Fine, 
isn’t it ? ” she rambled on ail in the same tone while she 
cautiously hid an unfortunate gape of her rosy mouth behind 
the folds of her airy handkerchief. “ Mr. Turner says the 
hiatus you have made in the musical world by leaving the 
concert room for the desk, can never be repaired,” she went 
on, supposedly to her nephew though she did not look his 
way, being at that instant engaged in sinking into her favor- 
ite chair. 

“ I am glad,” Bertram politely returned with a frank 
smile, “ to have enjoyed the approval of so cultivated a 
critic as Mr. Turner. I own it occasions me a pang now 
and then,” he remarked to his uncle over his shoulder, “ to 
think I shall never again call up those looks of self-forgetful 
delight, which I have sometimes detected on the faces of cer- 
tain ones in my audience.” 

And he relapsed without pause into a solemn anthem, 
the very reverse of the stirring tones which he had previ- 
ously accorded them. 

“ Now we are in a temple ! ” whispered Paula, subduing 
the sudden interest and curiosity which this young man’s 
last words had awakened. And the awe which crept over 
her countenance was the fittest interpretation to those noble 
sounds, which the one weary-hearted man in that room could 
have found. 

“ I have something to tell you, Ona,” remarked Mr. Syl- 


*32 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


vester shortly after this, as the music being over, they all sat 
down for a final chat about the fireside. “ I have received 
notice that the directors of the Madison Bank have this day 
elected me their president. I thought you might like to 
know it to-night.” 

“ It is a very gratifying piece of news certainly. Presi- 
dent of the Madison Bank sounds very well, does it not, 
Paula ? ” 

The young girl with her soul yet ringing with the grand 
and solemn harmonies of Mendelssohn and Chopin, turned at 
this with her brightest smile. “ It certainly does and a little 
awe-inspiring too ; ” she added with her arch glance. 

“ Your congratulations are also requested for our new 
assistant cashier. Arise, Bertram, and greet the ladies.” 

With a blush his young nephew arose to his feet. 

“ What ! are you going into the banking business ? ” que- 
ried Mrs. Sylvester. “ Mr. Turner will be more shocked than 
ever : he chooses to say that bankers, merchants and such 
are the solid rock of his church, while the lighter fry such 
as artists, musicians, and let us hope he includes us ladies, 
are its minarets and steeples. Now to make a foundation 
out of a steeple will quite overturn his methodical mind I 
fear.” 

Mr. Sylvester looked genially at his wife ; she was not 
accustomed to attempt the facetious ; but Paula seemed to 
have the power of bringing out unexpected lights and shad- 
ows from all with whom she came in contact. 

“ A clergyman who rears his church on the basis ol 


TWO MEN. 


133 


wealth must expect some overturning now and then,” laughed 
he. 

“ If by means of it he turns a fiesh side to the sun, it 
will do him no harm,” chimed in Paula. 

Seldom had there been so much simple gaiety round that 
fireside ; the very atmosphere grew lighter, and the brilliance 
of my lady’s picture became less oppressive. 

“ We ought to have a happy winter of it,” spoke up Mr. 
Sylvester with a glance around him. “ Life never looked 
more cheerful for us all, I think ; what do you say, Bertram 
my boy.” 

“ It certainly looks promising for me.” 

‘‘And for me,” murmured Paula. 

The complacent way with which Mrs. Sylvester smoothed 
out the feathers of her fan with her jewelled right hand, 
— she always carried a fan winter and summer, some said for 
the purpose of displaying those same jewelled fingers — was 
sufficient answer for her. 

At that moment there was a hush, when suddenly the 
small clock on the mantel-piece struck eleven, and instantly 
as if awaiting the signal, there came a rush and a heavy 
crash which drew every one to their feet, and the brilliant 
portrait of my lady fell from the wall, and toppling over the 
cabinet beneath, slid with the various articles of bronze and 
china thereon, almost to the very chair in which its hand- 
some prototype had been sitting. 

It was a startling interruption and for an instant no one 
spoke, then Paula with a look towards her cousin breathed 


134 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


to herself rather than said, “ Pray God it be not an omen ! * 
And the pale countenances of the two gentlemen standing 
face to face on either side of that fallen picture, showed that 
the shadow of the same superstition had insensibly crossed 
their own minds. 

i 

Mrs. Sylvester was the only one who remained unmoved. 
“ Lift it up,” cried she, “ and let us see if it has sustained 
any injury.” 

Instantly Bertram and her husband sprang forward, and 
in a moment its glowing surface was turned upward. Who 
could read the meaning of the look that crossed her hus- 
band’s face as he perceived that the sharp spear of the 
bronze horseman, which had been overturned in the fall, had 
penetrated the rosy countenance of the portrait and de- 
stroyed that importunate smile forever. 

“ 1 suppose it is a judgment upon me for putting all the 
money you had allowed me for charitable purposes, into that 
exquisite bit of bronze,” observed Mrs. Sylvester, stooping 
above the overturned horseman with an expression of regret 
she had not chosen to bestow on her own ruined picture. 
“ Ah he is less of a champion than I imagined ; he has lost 
his spear in the struggle.” 

Paula glanced at her cousin in surprise. Was this pleas- 
antry only a veil assumed by this courtly lady to hide 
her very natural regret over the more serious accident ? 
Even her husband turned toward her with a certain puz- 
zled inquiry in his troubled countenance. But her expres 
sion of unconcern was too natural ; evidently the destruc- 


TWO MEN . 135 

tion of the picture had awakened but small regret in her vol- 
atile mind. 

u She is less vain than I thought,” was the inward com- 
ment of Paula. 

Ah simple child of the woods and streams, it is the ex- 
tent of her vanity not the lack of it, that has produced this 
effect. She has begun to realize that ten years have elapsed 
since this picture was painted, and that people are begin- 
ning to say as they examine it, “ Mrs. Sylvester has not yet 
lost her complexion, I see.” 

A break necessarily followed this disturbance, and before 
long Bertram took his leave, not without a cordial pressure 
from his uncle’s hand and a look of kindly interest from the 
stranger lassie, upon whose sympathetic and imaginative 
mind the hints let fall as to his former profession, had pro- 
duced a deep impression. With his departure Mrs. Sylves- 
ter’s weariness returned, and ere long she led the way to 
her apartments up stairs. As Paula was hastening to follow 
Mr. Sylvester stopped her. 

“ You will not allow this unfortunate occurrence,” he 
said, with a slight gesture towards the picture now standing 
with its face against the wall, “ to mar your first sleep under 
my roof, will you Paula, my child ? ” 

“ No, not if you say that you think Cousin Ona will not 
be likely to connect it with my appearance here.” 

“ I do not think she will ; she is not superstitious and be- 
sides does not seem to greatly regret the misfortune.” 

“ Then I will forget it all and only remember the music/’ 


136 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ It was all you anticipated. 

“ It was more.” 

“ Sometime I will tell you about the player and the sweet 
young girl he loves.” 

“ Does he — ” she paused, blushing ; love was a subjec* 
upon which she had never yet spoken to any one. 

“ Yes he does,” Mr. Sylvester returned smiling. 

“ I thought there was a meaning in the music I did not 
quite understand. Good night, uncle,” — he had requested 
her to address him thus though he was in truth her cousin, 
“ and many, many thanks.” 

But he stopped her again. “You think you will be 
happy in these rooms,” said he ; “you love splendor.” 

She was not yet sufficiently acquainted with his voice to 
detect the regret underlying its kindly tone, and answered 
without suspicion. “ I did not know it before, but I fear 
that I do. It dazzled at first, but now it seems as if I had 
reached a home towards which I had always been jour- 
neying. I shall dream away hours of joy before each little 
ornament that adorns your parlors. The very tiles that sur- 
ound the fireplace will demand a week of attention at least 

She ended with a smile, but unlike formerly he did not 
seem to catch the infection. “ I had rather you had cared 
less,” said he, but instantly regretted the seeming reproach, 
for her eyes filled with tears and the tones of her voice trem- 
bled as she replied, 

“ Do you think the beauty I have seen has made me for- 
get the kindness that has brought me here ? I love fine and 


TWO MEN. 


13 / 


noble objects, glory of color and harmony of shape, but more 
than all these do I love a generous soul without a blot on its 
purity, or a flaw in its integrity." 

She had meant to utter something that would show hei 
appreciation of his goodness and the universal esteem in 
which he was held, but was quite unprepared for the start 
hat he gave and the unmistakable deepening of the shadow 
on his sombre face. But before she could express her fegret 
at the offence, whatever it was, he had recovered himself, 
and it was with a fatherly tenderness that he laid his hand 
upon hers while he said, “ Such a soul may yours ever con- 
tinue, my child,” and then stood watching her as she glided 
up the stairs, her charming face showing every now and then 
as she leaned on her winding way to the top, to bestow upon 
him the tender little smile she had already learned was hi* 
solace and delight. 

It was the beginning of happier days for him. 


BOOK II. 


LIFE AND DEATH. 

XIV. 

MISS BELINDA HAS A QUESTION TO DECIDE. 

“ I pray you in your letters, 

Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate. 

Nor set down aught in malice.” —Othello. 

Miss Belinda sitting before her bedroom fire on a cer* 
tain windy night in January, presented a picture of the most 
profound thought. A year had elapsed since, with heavy 
heart and moistened eye, she had bidden good-bye to the 
child of her care, and beheld her drift away with her new 
friend into a strange and untried life. And now a letter had 
come from that friend, in which with the truest appreciation 
for the feelings of herself and sister, he requested their final 
permission to adopt Paula as his own child and the future 
occupant of his house and heart. 

Yes, after a year of increased comfort, Mrs. Sylvester, 
who would never have consented to receive as her own any 
child demanding care or attention, had decided it was quite 
a different matter to give place and position to a lovely girl 
already grown, whose beauty was sufficiently pronounced to 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


139 


do credit to the family while at the same time it was of a 
character to heighten by contrast her own very manifest at- 
tractions. So the letter, destined to create such a disturb- 
ance in the stern and powerful mind of Miss Belinda, had 
Deen written and dispatched. 

And indeed it was matter for the gravest reflection. To 
accede to this important request was to yield up all control 
over the dear young girl whose affection had constituted the 
brightness of this somewhat disappointed life, while to refuse 
an offer made with such evident love and anxiety, was to 
bring a pang of regret to a heart she hesitated to wound. 
The question of advantage which might have swayed others 
in their decision, did not in the least affect Miss Belinda 
Now that Paula had seen the world and gained an insight 
into certain studies beyond the reach of her own attain- 
ments, any wishes in which she might have indulged on that 
score, were satisfied, and mere wealth with its concomitant 
of luxuriant living, she regarded with distrust, and rather in 
the light of a stumbling-block to the great and grand end of 
all existence. 

Suddenly with that energy which characterized all her 
movements, she rose from her seat, and first casting a look 
of somewhat cautious inquiry at the recumbent figure of her 
sister, asleep in the heavy old fashioned bed that occupied 
one corner of the room, she proceeded to a bureau drawer 
and took out a small box which she unlocked on the table. 
It was full of letters ; those same honest epistles, which, as 
empowered by Mr. Sylvester, she had requested Paula to 


140 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES, 


send her from week to week. Some of them were a year 
old, but she read them all carefully through, while the 
clock ticked on the shelf and the wind soughed in the chim- 
ney. Certain passages she marked, and when she had fin- 
ished the pile, she took up the letters again and re-read thos 
passages They were necessarily desultory in their charac- 
ter, but they all had, in her mind at least, a bearing upon the 
question on hand, and as such, I give them to my readers. 

“ O aunty, I have made a friend, a sweet girl friend who 
I have reason to hope will henceforth be to me as my other 
eye and hand. Her name is Stuyvesant — a name by the 
way that always calls up a certain complacent smile on 
Cousin Ona’s countenance — and she is the daughter of one 
of the directors of Mr. Sylvester’s bank. I met her in a 
rather curious way. For some reason Ona had expressed a 
wish for me to ride horseback. She is rather too large for 
the exercise herself, but thought it looked well, she said, to 
see a lady and groom ride from the front of the house ; 
moreover it would keep me in color by establishing my 
health. So Mr. Sylvester who denies her nothing, promised 
us horses and the groom, and as a preparation for acquitting 
myself with credit, has sent me to one of the finest riding 
academies in the city. It was here I met Miss Stuyvesant. 
She is a small interesting-looking girl whose chief beauty 
lies in her expression which is certainly very charming. I 
was conscious of a calm and satisfied feeling the moment I 
saw her. Her eyes which are raised with a certain appeal 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


MI 


to >our face, are blue, while her lips that break into smiles 
only at rare moments, are rosy and delicately curved. In 
her riding-habit she looks like a child, but when dressed for 
the street she surprises you with the reserved and womanly 
air with which she carries her proud head. Altogether she 
is a sweet study to me, alluring me with her glance yet aw- 
ing me by her dainty ladyhood, a ladyhood too uncon- 
scious to be affected and yet so completely a part of her 
whole delicate being, that you could as soon dissociate the 
bloom from the rose, as the air of highborn reserve, from 
this sweet scion of one of New York’s oldest families. 

“ I was mounting my horse when our eyes first met, and 
I never shall forget her look of delighted surprise. Did she 
recognize in me the friend I now hope to become ? Later 
we were introduced and by Mr. Sylvester who had been so 
kind as to accompany me that day. The way in which he 
said to her, “ This is Paula,” proved that I was no new topic 
of conversation between them, and indeed she afterwards ex- 
plained to me that she had been forewarned of my arrival 
during an afternoon call at his house. There was in this 
first interview none of the unnecessary gush which you have 
so often reprobated as childish ; indeed Miss Stuyvesant is 
not a person with whom one would presume to be familiar, 
nor was it till we had met several times that any acknowl- 
edgement was made of the mutual interest with which we 
found ourselves inspired. Cousin Ona to whom I had natu- 
rally spoken of the little lady, wished me to cultivate her ac- 
quaintance more assiduously, but I knew that if I had excited 


4 


142 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


in her the same interest she had awakened in me, this would 
aot be necessary ; our friendship would grow of itself and 
blossom without any hot-house forcing. And so it did. 
One day she came to the riding-school with her eyes like 
stars and her cheeks like the oleanders in your sitting-room. 
Her brightness was so contagious, I stepped up to her. But 
she greeted me with almost formal reserve, and mounting 
her horse, proceeded to engage in her usual exercise. I was 
not hurt ; I recognized the presence of some thought or 
feeling which made a barrier around her sensitive nature, 
and duly respected it. Mounting my own horse, I rode 
around the ring which is the somewhat limited field of my 
present equestrian efforts, and waited. For I knew from 
the looks which she cast me every now and then, that the 
flower of our friendship was outgrowing its sheath and would 
soon burst into the bud of perfect understanding. At the 
end of the lesson we approached each other. I do not know 
how it was done, but we walked home together, or rather I 
accompanied her to the stoop of her house, and before we 
parted we had exchanged those words which give emphasis 
to a sentiment long cherished but now for the first time 
avowed. Miss Stuyvesant and I are friends, and I feel 
as though a new stream of enjoyment had opened in my 
breast. 

“ The fact that I still call her by this formal title instead 
of her very pretty name of Cicely, proves the nature of 
the respect she inspires even in the breasts of her girlish 
associates.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


143 

“ Why is it that I frequently hesitate as I go up the 
stairs and look about me with a vague feeling of appre- 
hension ? The bronze figure of Luxury that adorns the 
landing, wears no semblance of terror to the wildest im- 
agination, and yet I often find myself seized by an inex- 
plicable shudder as I hurry past it ; and once I actually 
looked behind me with the same sensation as if some one 
had plucked me by the sleeve. 

“ It is a folly • for recording which, I make my excuses.’ 

“Cousin Ona has decided that I must never wear colors, 
‘Soft grays, my dear, dead blacks and opaque whites are 
all that you need to bring out the fine contrast of your 
hair and complexion ; the least hint of blue or pink would 
destroy it.’ So she says and so I must believe, for who else 
has made such a study of the all important subject of dress 
Behold me, then, arrayed for my first reception in a color- 
less robe of rich silk to which Ona after long considera- 
tion allowed me to add some ornaments of plain gold with 
which Mr. Sylvester has kindly presented me. But I think 
more of the people I am going to meet than of anything 
else, though I enjoy the home-feeling which a pretty dress 
gives me, as well as a violet does its bright blue coat.” 

“ I have heard a great preacher ! What shall I say ? 
At first it seems as if nothing could express my joy and 
satisfaction The sapling that is' shaken to its root by the 
winds of heaven, keeps silence I imagine. But O Aunty 


*44 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


if my smallness makes me quake, it also makes me feel 
What gates of thought have been opened to me ! What 
shining tracks of inquiry pointed out ! I feel as if I had 
been shown a path where angels walked. Can it be that 
iuch words have been uttered every week of my life and 
1 in ignorance of them ? It is like the revelation of the 
ocean to unaccustomed eyes. Henceforth small things must 
seem like pebble stones above which stretch innumerable 
heavenly vistas. It is not so much that new things have 
been revealed to me as that old things have been made 
strangely eloquent. The voice of a daisy on the hill side 
the breath of thunder in the mountain gorges, the blossom- 
ing of a child’s smile under its mother’s eye, the fact that 
golden portals are opened in every life for the coming and 
going of the messengers of God, all have been made real 
to me, real as the voice of the Saviour to his disciples as 
they walked in the fields or started back awe-stricken from 
the stupendous vision of the cross. It is a solemn thing 
to see one’s humble thoughts caught by the imagination of a 
great mind and carried on and up into regions you never 
realized existed. 

“ I was so burdened with joy that I could not forbear 
asking Mr. Sylvester if he did not feel as if the whcle face 
of the world had changed since we entered those hoi / doors 
He did not respond with the glad ‘Yes’ for which I hoped, 
and though his smile was very kind, I could not help won- 
dering what it was that sometimes fell between us like a 
veil.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


H5 


“0 Aunty, how my heart does yearn towards Mr. Syl- 
vester at times ! As I see him sitting with clouded brow in 
the midst of so much that ought to charm and enliven him, 
I ask myself if the advantages of wealth compensate for all 
this care and anxiety. But I notice he is much more cheer 
ful now than when I first came. Ona says he is in danger 
of losing the air of melancholy reserve which made him look 
so distinguished, but I think we can spare a little of such 
doubtful distinguishment for the sake of the smiles with 
which he now and then indulges us." 

“ I feel as if a hand had gripped my throat. Cousin Ona 
spoke to Mr. Sylvester this morning in a way that made my 
very heart stand still. And yet it was only a simple, ‘ Fol- 
low your own judgment, Mr. Sylvester.’ But how she said 
it ! Do these languid women carry venom in their tongues ? 
I had always thought she was of too easy a disposition to 
feel anger or display it ; but the spring of a serpent is all the 
deadlier for his long silent basking in the sun. O pardon 
me for making such a frightful allusion. But if you had 
seen her and heard Mr. Sylvester’s sigh as he turned and 
left the room ! ’’ 

“ Mr. Bertram Sylvester has awakened my deepest inter 
est. His uncle has told me his story, which alone of all the 
things I have heard in this house, I do not feel at liberty to 
repeat, and it has aroused in me strange thoughts and very 
peculiar emotions. He is devoted to some one we do nol 


146 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


know, and the idea surrounds him in my eyes with a sort ot 
halo that you would perhaps call fanciful, but which I am 
nevertheless bound to reverence. He does not know that 1 
am acquainted with his story. I wish he did and would let 
ne speak the words that rise to my lips whenever I see him 
or hear him play.” 

“ There are moments .when I long to flee back to Grote- 
welL It is when Cousin Ona comes in from shopping with 
a dozen packages to be opened and commented upon, or 
when Mrs. Fitzgerald has been here or some other of her 
ultra-fashionable acquaintances. The atmosphere of the 
house for hours after either of the above occurrences is too 
heavy for breathing. I have to go away and clear my brain 
by a brisk walk or a look into Knoedler’s or Schaus'.” 

“ The panel where Cousin Ona’s picture used to hang, 
has been filled by one of Meissonier’s most interesting 
studies ; and though I never thought Mr. Sylvester particu- 
larly fond of the French style of art, he seems very well 
satisfied with the result. I cannot understand how Cousin 
Ona can regard the misfortune to her portrait so calmly 
1 think it would break my heart to see a husband look with 
complacency on any picture, no matter how exquisite, that 
took the place of my own, especially if like her’s, it was 
painted in my bridal days. I sometimes wonder if those 
days are as sacred to the memory of husband and wife as 1 
have always imagined them to be.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


H 7 

“ Why does Cousin Ona never speak of Grotewell, and 
why, if by chance I mention the name, does she drop her 
eyes and a shadow cross the countenance of Mi. Sylves* 
xer ?” 

“ There is a word Mr. Sylvester uses in the most curious 
way , it is fuss. He calls everything a fuss that while insig- 
nificant in size or character has power either to irritate or 
please. A fly is a fuss ; so is a dimple in a girl’s cheek or a 
figure that goes wrong in accounts. I have even heard him 
call a child, ‘ That dear little fuss.’ Bertram unconsciously 
imitates his uncle in this peculiar mannerism and is often 
heard alluding to this or that as a fuss of fusses. Indeed 
they say this use of the word is a peculiarity of the Sylvester 
family.” 

“ I think from the way Mr. Sylvester spoke yesterday, 
that he must have experienced some dreadful trouble in his 
life. We were walking in the wards of a hospital — that is, 
Miss Stuyvesant, Mr. Sylvester and myself — when some one 
near us gave utterance to the trite expression, ‘ O it will heal, 
but the scar will always remain.’ * That is a common say- 
ing,’ remarked Mr. Sylvester, ‘ but how true a one no one 
realizes but he who carries the scar. 

“ It may be imagination or simply the effect of in- 
creased appreciation on my part, but it does seem as if Miss 
Stuyvesant grew lovelier and more companionable each time 


148 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


that I meet her. She makes me think of a temple in which 
a holy lamp is burning. Her very silences are eloquent and 
yet she is never distraite but always cheerful and frequently 
the brightest of the company. But it is a brightness without 
glitter, a gentle lustre that delights you but never astonishes 
I meet many sweet girls in the so-called heartless circles of 
society, but none like her. She is my white lily on which a 
moonbeam rests.” 

“ This house contains a mystery, as Ona is pleased to 
designate the room at the top of the house to which Mr. Syl- 
vester withdraws when he desires to be alone. And indeed 
it is a sort of Bluebeard’s chamber, in that he keeps it rigidly 
under lock and key, allowing no one to enter it, not even his 
wife. The servants declare that no one but himself has ever 
crossed its threshold, but I can scarcely believe that. Ona 
has not, but there must surely be some trusty person to 
whom he allots the care of its furniture. Am I only prov- 
ing myself to be a true member of my sex when I allow that 
I cannot hinder my own curiosity from hovering about a 
spot so religiously guarded ? Yet what should we see if its 
doors were thrown open ? A study surrounded with books 
it displeases him to see misplaced, or a luxurious apartment 
fitted with every appointment necessary to rest and comfort 
him when he comes home tired from business.” 

* I never saw Mr. Sylvester angry till to-day. By some 
inadvertence he went down town without locking the dool 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


1 49 


jf his private room, and though he returned immediately 
upon missing the key from his pocket, he was barely in time 
to prevent Cousin Ona from invading the spot he has always 
kept so sacred from intrusion. I was not present and ot 
course did not hear what was said, but I caught a glimpse of 
his face as he left the house, and found it quite sufficient 
to assure me of his dissatisfaction. As for Ona, she declares 
he pulled her back as if she had been daring the plague. ‘ I 
do not expect to find five beautiful wives hanging up there 
by their necks,’ concluded she with a forced laugh, ‘but 1 
shall yet see the interior of that room, if only to establish my 
prerogative as the mistress of this house.' 

“ I do not now feel as if I wished to see it.” 

“There is one thing that strikes me as peculiar in Miss 
Stuyvesant, and that is, that as much pleasure as she seems 
to take in my society when we meet, she never comes to see 
me in Mr. Sylvester’s house. For a long time I wondered 
over this but said nothing, but one day upon receiving a sec- 
ond invitation to visit her, I mentioned the fact as delicately 
as I could, and was quite distressed to observe how seriously 
she took the rebuke, if rebuke it could be called. ‘ I cannot 
explain myself,’ she murmured in some embarrassment; ‘but 
Mr. Sylvester’s house is closed against me. You must not 
ask me to seek’ you there or expect me to do myself the 
pleasure of attending Mrs. Sylvester’s receptions. I cannot. 
Is that enough for me to say to my dearest friend ? ’ I hardly 
knew what to reply, but finally ventured to inquire if she 


150 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


was restrained by any fact that would make it undignified ir. 
me to seek her society and enjoy the pleasures she is con- 
tinually offering me. And she answered with such a cheer- 
ful negative I was quite reassured. And so the matter if 
settled. Our friendship is to be emancipated from the bonds 
of etiquette and I am to enjoy her company whenever I can, 
To-morrow we are going to take our first ride in the park. 
The horses have been bought, and much to Cousin Ona's 
satisfaction, the groom has been hired. ” 

“ I was told something the other day, of a nature so un- 
pleasant that I should not think of repeating it, if you had 
not expressly commanded me to confide to you everything 
that for any reason produced an effect upon me in my new 
home. My informant was Sarah, the somewhat gossiping 
woman whom Ona has about her as seamstress and maid. 
She said — and she had spoken before I could prevent her — 
that the way Mrs. Sylvester took on about her mourning at 
the time of little Geraldine’s death was enough to wear out 
the patience of Job. She even went so far as to tell the 
dressmaker that if she could not have her dress made to suit 
her she would not put on mourning at all ! Aunty, can you 
wonder that Mr. Sylvester looks so bitterly sombre whenever 
mention is made of his child ? He loved it, and its own 
mother could worry over the fit of a dress while his bereaved 
heart was breaking ! I confess I can never feel the same 
indulgence towards what I considered the idiosyncrasies of 
a fashionable beauty again. Her smooth white skin makes 


LIFE AND DEATH. 1 5 1 

me tremble ; it has never flushed with delight over the in* 
nocent smiles of her firstborn.” 

“ Mr. Sylvester is very polite to Cousin Ona and seems 
to yield to her wishes in everything. But if I were she I 
think my heart would break over that very politeness. But 
then she is one who demands formality even from the per- 
sons of her household. I have never seen him stoop for a 
kiss or beheld her even so much as lay her hand on his 
shoulder. But I have observed him wait on her at moments 
when he was pale from weariness and she flushed with long 
twilight reclinings before her sleepy boudoir fire.” 

“ There are times when I would not exchange my present 
opportunities for any others which might be afforded me. 

General dined here to-day, and what a vision of a great 

struggle was raised up before me by his few simple words in 
regard to Gettysburg. I did not know which to admire 
most, the military bearing and vivid conversation of the 
great soldier, or the ease and dignity with which Mr. Sylves- 
ter met his remarks and answered each glowing sentence. 

General spoke a few words to me. How gentle these 

lion-like men can be when they stoop their tall heads to ad- 
dress little children or young women ! ” 

“ What a noble-hearted man Mr. Sylvester is ! Mr. 
Turner in speaking of him the other night, declared there 
is no one in his congregation who in a quiet way does sc 


152 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


much for the poor. “ He is especially interested in young 
men,” said he, “and will leave his own affairs at any time 
to aid or advise them.’ I knew Mr. Sylvester was kind, 
but Mr. Turner’s enthusiasm was uncommon. He evi- 
dently admires Mr. Sylvester as much as every one else 
loves him. And he is not alone in this. Almost every day 
I hear some remark made of a nature complimentary to my 
benefactor’s character or ability. Even Mr. Stuyvesant 
who so seldom appears to notice us girls, once interrupted 
a conversation between Cicely and myself to inquire if Mr. 
Sylvester was quite well. ‘ I thought he looked pale to- 
day,’ remarked he, in his dry but not unkindly way, and 
then added, ‘ He must not get sick ; he is too valuable to 
us.’ This was a great deal for Mr. Stuyvesant to say, and 
it caused a visible gratification to Mr. Sylvester when I relat- 
ed it to him in the evening. ‘ I had rather satisfy that man 
than any other I know,’ declared he. ‘ He is of the stern 
old-fashioned sort, and it is an honor to any one to merit 
his approval. I did not tell him that I had also heard 
Mr. Stuyvesant observe in a conversation with some busi- 
ness friend of his, that Edward Sylvester was the only specu- 
lator he knew in whom he felt implicit confidence. Some- 
how it always gives me an uncomfortable feeling to hear 
Mr. Sylvester alluded to as a speculator. Besides since he 
has entered the Bank, he has I am told, entirely restricted 
himself to what are called legitimate operations.” 


“ Mr. Sylvester came home with a dreadful look on his 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


153 


face to-day. We were standing in the hall at the time the 
door opened, and he went by us without a nod, almost as if 
he did not see us. Even Ona was startled and stood gazing 
after him with an anxiety such as I had never observed 
in her before, while I was conscious of that sick feeling I 
have sometimes experienced when he came upon me sud- 
denly from his small room above, or paused in the midst 0/ 
the gayest talk, to ask me some question that was wholly 
irrelevant and most frequently sad. 

“‘He has met with some heavy loss,’ murmured his wife, 
glancing down the handsome parlors with a look such as 
a mother might bestow upon the face of a sick child. But I 
was sure she had not sounded his trouble, and in my impetu- 
osity was about to fly to his side when we saw him pause 
before the image of Luxury that stands on the stair, look 
at it for a moment with a strange intentness, then suddenly 
and with a gesture of irrepressible passion, lift his arm as 
if he would fell it from its place. The action was so start- 
ling, Ona clutched my sleeve in terror, but he passed on and 
in another moment we heard him shut the door of his room. 

“ Would he be down to dinner ? that was the next ques- 
tion. Ona thought not ; I did not dare to think. Neverthe- 
less it was a great relief to me when I saw him enter the 
dining-room with that set immovable look he sometimes 
wears when Ona begins one of her long and rambling streams 
of fashionable gossip. ‘ It is nothing,’ flashed from his wife’s 
eyes to mine, and she lapsed at once into her most graceful 
self but she nevertheless hastened her meal and I was quite 


<54 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


prepared to observe her follow him, as with the polite excuse 
of weariness, he left the table before desert. I could not 
hear what she asked him, but his answer came distinctly to 
my ears from the midst of the library to which they had with- 
drawn. ‘ It is nothing in which you have an interest, Ona. 
Thank heaven you do not always know the price with which 
the splendors you so love are bought.’ And she did not cry 
out, * O never pay such a price for any joy of mine ! Sooner 
than cost you so dear I would live on crusts and dwell in a 
garret.’ No, she kept silence, and when in a few mirutes 
later I joined her in the library, it was to find on her usually 
placid lips, a thin cool smile that struck like ice to my hea.t, 
and made it impossible for me to speak. 

“ But the hardest trial of the day was to hear Mr. Sylves- 
ter come in at eleven o’clock — he went out again immediately 
after dinner — and go up stairs without giving me my usual 
good-night. It was such a grief to me I could not keep still, 
but hurried to the foot of the stairs in the hopes he would 
yet remember me and come back. But instead of that, he 
no sooner saw me than he threw out his hand almost as if 
he would push me back, and hastened on up the whole wind- 
ing flight till he reached the refuge of that mysterious room 
of his at the top of the house. 

“ I could not go back to Ona after that — she had been to 
make a call somewhere with a young gentleman friend of 
hers ; — yes on this very night had been to make a call — but 
I took advantage of the late hour to retire to my own room 
where for a long time I lay awake listening for his descend* 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


155 


ing step and seeing, as in a vision, the startling picture of 
his lifted arm raised against the unconscious piece of bronze 
on the stair. Henceforth that statue will possess for me a 
still more dreadful significance." 

“ It is the twenty-fifth of February Why should I feel 
as if I must be sure of the exact date before I slept ? ” 

The next extract followed close on this and was the last 
which Miss Belinda read. 

“ Mr. Sylvester seems to have recovered from his late 
anxiety. He does not shrink from me any more with that 
half bitter, half sad expression that has so long troubled and 
bewildered me, but draws me to his side and sits listening to 
my talk until I feel as if I were really of some comfort to 
this great and able man. Ona does not notice the change ; 
she is all absorbed in preparing for the visit to Washington, 
which Mr. Sylvester has promised her.” 

Miss Belinda calmly folded up the letters and locked 
them again in the little mahogany box, after which she cov- 
ered up the embers and quietly went to bed. But next 
morning a letter was despatched to Mr. Sylvester which ran 
thus : 

4 Dear Mr. Sylvester : 

44 For the present at least you may keep Paula with you. 
But I am not ready to say that I think it would be for her 
best good to be received and acknowledged as your daughter 


156 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


— yet. Hoping you will appreciate the motives that actuate 
this decision, 

44 1 remain, respectfully yours, 

44 Belinda Ann Walton' 


XV. 


AN ADVENTURE — OR SOMETHING MORI. 

tl Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, 

But to be young was very heaven.” — Wordswc rt*. 

Ofh .— What means this, my lord ? 

Ham. — Marry, this is the miching mallecho ; it means mischief.” 

— Hamlbt. 

A ride in the Central Park is an every-day matter to 
most people. It signifies an indolent bowling over a smooth 
road all alive with the glitter of passing equipages, waving 
ribbons and fluttering plumes, and brightened now and then 
by the sight of a well known face amid the general rush of 
old and young, plain and handsome, sad and gay counte- 
nances that flash by you in one long and brilliant proces- 
sion. 

But to Paula and her friend Miss Stuyvesant starting out 
in the early freshness of a fair April morning, it meant new 
life, reawakening joy, the sparkle of young leaves just loosed 
from the bonds of winter, the sweetness and promise of 
spring airs, and all the budding glory of a new year with its 
summer of countless roses and its autumn of incalculable 
glories. Not the twitter of a bird was lost to them, not the 
smile of an opening flower, not the welcome of a waving 
branch. Youth, joy, and innocence lived in their hearts and 


158 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


showed them nothing in the mirror of nature that was not 
equally young, joyous and innocent. Then they were alone, 
or sufficiently so. The stray wanderers whom they met sit- 
ting under the flowering trees, were equally with themselves 
lovers of nature or they would not be seated in converse 
with it at this early hour; while the laugh of little children 
startled from their play by the prance of their high-stepping 
horses, was only another expression of the sweet but unex • 
pressed delight that breathed in all the radiant atmosphere. 

‘‘We are two birds who have escaped thralldom and are 
taking our first flight into our natural ether,” cried Miss 
Stuyvesant gaily. 

“ We are two pioneers lit by the spirit of adventure, who 
have left the cosy hearth of wintry-fires to explore the do- 
mains of the frost king, and lo, we have come upon a Para- 
dise of bloom and color ! ” responded the ringing voice of 
Paula. 

“ I feel as if I could mount that little white cloud we see 
over there,” continued Cicely with a quick lively wave of her 
whip. “I wonder how Dandy would enjoy an empyrean 
journey ? ” 

“From the haughty bend of his neck I should say he 
was quite satisfied with his present condition But perhaps 
his chief pride is due to the mistress he carries.” 

“ Are you attempting to vie with Mr. Williams, Pau?a? ” 

Mr. Williams was the meek-eyed, fair complexioned gen- 
tleman, whose predilection for compliment was just then a 
subject of talk in fashionable circles. 


LIFE ANL DEATH. 1 59 

“ Only so far as my admiration goes of the most charm- 
ing lady I see this morning. But who is this ?” 

Miss Stuyvesant looked up. “ Ah, that is some one with 
whom there is very little danger of your falling in love.” 

Paula blushed. The gentleman approaching them upon 
horseback was conspicuous for long side whiskers of a de- 
cidedly auburn tinge. 

“ His name is — ” But she had not time to finish, for the 
gentleman with a glance of astonished delight at Paula, 
bowed to the speaker with a liveliness and grace that de- 
manded some recognition. 

Instantly he drew rein. “ Do I behold Miss Stuyvesant 
among the nymphs ! ” cried he, in those ringing pleasant 
tones that at once predispose you towards their possessor. 

“If you allude to my friend Miss Fairchild, you cer- 
tainly do, Mr. Ensign,” the wicked little lady rejoined with 
a waiving of her usual ceremony that astonished Paula. 

Mr. Ensign bestowed upon them his most courtly bow, but 
the flush that mounted to his brow — making his face one red, 
as certain of his friends were malicious enough to observe 
on similar occasions — indicated that he had been taken a lit- 
tle more at his word than perhaps suited even one of his easy 
and proverbially careless temperament. “ Miss Fairchild will 
understand that I am not a Harvey Williams — at least before 
an introduction,” said he with something like seriousness. 

But at this allusion to the gentleman whose name had 
been upon their lips but a moment before, both ladies 
laughed outright. 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


\6o 


“I have just been accused of attempting the role of that 
gentleman myself,” exclaimed Paula. “ If the fresh morning 
lir will persist in painting such roses on ladies’ cheeks,” con- 
tinued she, with a loving look at her pretty companion 
* what can one be expected to do ? ” 

“Admire,” quoth the red bannered cavalier with a glance, 
however, at the beautiful speaker instead of the demure little 
Cicely at her side. 

Miss Stuyvesant perceived this look and a curious smile 
disturbed the corners of her rosy lips. “ What a fortunate 
man to be able to do the right thing at the right time,** 
laughed she, gaily touching up her horse that was beginning 
to show symptoms of restlessness. 

“ If Miss Stuyvesant will put that in the future tense and 
then assure us she has been among the prophets, I should 
be singularly obliged,” said he with a touch of his hat and a 
smiling look at Paula that was at once manly and gentle, 
careless and yet respectful. 

“ Ah, life is too bright for prophesies this morning. The 
moment is enough.” 

“Is it Miss Fairchild?” queried Mr. Ensign looking 
back over his shoulder. 

She turned just a. bit of her cheek towards him. “ What 
Miss Stuyvesant declares to be true, that am I bound to 
believe,” said she, and with the least little ripple of a laugh, 
rode on. 

“ It is a pity you have such a dislike for whiskers,” Cicely 
presently remarked with an air of great gravity. 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


lG i 

Paula gave a start and cast a glance of reproach at 
her companion. “ I did not notice his whiskers after the first 
word or two,” said she, fixing her eyes on a turn of the road 
before them. “ Such cheerfulness is infectious. I was merry 
before, but now I feel as if I had been bathed in sunshine/' 

Cicely’s eyes flashed wide with surprise and her face 
grew serious in earnest. “ Mr. Ensign is a delightful com- 
panion,” observed she; “a room is always brighter for his 
entrance ; and with all that, he is the only young man I know, 
who having come into a large fortune, feels any of the re- 
sponsibilities of his position. The sunshine is the result of 
a good heart and pure living, and that is what makes it in- 
fectious, I suppose.” 

“ Let us canter,” said Paula. And so the glad young 
things swept on, life breaking in bubbles around them and 
rippling away into unfathomable wells of feeling in one of 
their pure hearts at least. Suddenly a hand seemed tc 
swoop from heaven and dash them both back in dismay 
They had reached one of those places where the foot path 
crosses the equestrian and they had run over and thrown 
down a little child. 

“ O heaven ! ” cried Paula leaping from her horse, u I 
had rather been killed myself.” The groom rode up and 
she bent anxiously over the child. 

It was a boy of some seven or eight years, whose mis- 
fortune — he was lame, as the little crutch fallen at his side 
sufficiently denoted — made appear much younger. He had 
been struck on his arm and was moaning with pain, but did 


62 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


not seem to be otherwise hurt. “Are you alone?” cried 
Paula, lifting his head on her arm and glancing hurriedly 
about. 

The little fellow raised his heavy lids and for a moment 
stared into her face with eyes so deeply blue and beautiful 
they almost startled her, then with an effort pointed down 
the path, saying, 

“ Dad’s over there in the long tunnel talking to some 
one. Tell him I got hurt. I want Dad.” 

She gently lifted him to his feet and led him out of the 
road into the apparently deserted path where she made him 
sit down. “ I am going to find his father,” said Paula to 
Cicely, “ I will be back in a moment.” 

“ But wait ; you shall not go alone,” authoritatively ex- 
claimed that little damsel, leaping in her turn to the ground. 
“ Where does he say. his father is ? ” 

“ In the tunnel, by which I suppose he means that long 
passage under the bridge over there.” 

Plolding up the skirts of their riding-habits in their 
trembling right hands, they hurried forward. Suddenly 
they both paused. A woman had crossed their path ; a 
woman whom to look at but once was to remember with 
ghastly shrinking for a life-time. She was wrapped in a 
long and ragged cloak, and her eyes, startling in their black- 
ness, were fixed upon the pain-drawn countenance of the 
poor little hurt boy behind them, with a gleam whose 
feverish hatred and deep malignant enjoyment of his very 
evident sufferings, was like a revelation from the lowest pit 


LIFE AND DEATH. 1 63 

to the two innocent-minded girls hastening forward on their 
eirand of mercy. 

“ Is he much hurt ? ” gasped the woman in an ineffectual 
effort to conceal the evil nature of her interest. “ Do you think 
he will die ? ” with a shrill lingering emphasis on the last word 
as if she longed to roll it like a sweet morsel under her tongue. 

“ Who are you ? ” asked Cicely, shrinking to one side with 
dilated eyes fixed on the woman’s hardened countenance and 
the white, too white hand with which she had pointed as she 
spoke of the child. 

“ Are you his mother ? ” queried Paula, paling at the 
thought but keeping her ground with an air of unconscious 
authority. 

“ His mother ! ” shrieked the woman, hugging herself in 
her long cloak and laughing with fiendish sarcasm. “ I look 
like his mother, don’t I? His eyes — did you notice his eyes? 
they are just like mine, aren’t they ? and his body, poor 
weazen little thing, looks as if it had drawn sustenance from 
mine, dont it ? His mother ! O heaven ! ” 

Nothing like the suppressed force of this invocation 
seething as it was with the worst passions of a depraved hu- 
man nature, had ever startled those ears before. Clasping 
Cicely by the hand, she called out to the groom behind them, 
“ Guard that child as you would your life ! ” and then flash- 
ing upon the wretched creature before her with all the force 
of her aroused nature, she exclaimed, “ If you are not his 
mother, move aside and let us pass, we are in search of as« 
sistance.” 


164 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


For an instant the woman stood awe-struck before tliit 
vision of maidenly beauty and indignation, then she laughed 
and cried out with shrill emphasis : 

H When next you look like that, go to your mirror, and 
when you see the image it reflects, say to yourself, ‘ So once 
looked the woman who defied me in the Park ! * ” 

With a quick shudder and a feeling as if the noisome 
cloak of this degraded being had somehow been dropped 
upon her own fair and spotless shoulders, Paula clasped the 
hand of Cicely more tightly in her own, and rushed with her 
down the steps that led into the underground passage 
tow ards which they had been directed. 

There were but two persons in it when they entered. A 
short thickset man and another man of a slighter and more 
gentlemanly build. They were engaged in talking, and the 
latter was bringing down his right hand upon the palm of 
his left with a gesture almost foreign in its expressive energy. 

“ I tell you,” declared he, with a voice that while low, re- 
verberated through the hollow vault above him with strange 
intensity, “ I tell you I’ve got my grip on a certain rich 
man in this city, and if you will only wait, you shall see 
strange things. I dont know his name and I dont know his 
face, but I do know what he has done, and a thousand dollars 
down couldn’t buy the knowledge of me.” 

“ But if you dont know his name and dont know his face, 
how in the name of all that’s mischievous are you going to 
know your man ? ” 

“ Leave that to me ! If I once meet him and hear him 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


165 

talk, one more rich man goes down and one more 1 oor devil 
goes up, or I’ve not the wit that starvation usually teaches.” 

The nature of these sentences together with the various 
manifestations of interest with which they were received, 
had for a moment deterred the two girls in their hurried ad- 
vance, but now they put away every thought save that of the 
poor little creature awaiting his Dad, and lifting up her 
voice, Paula said, 

“ Are either of you the father of a little lame lad — ” 

Instantly and before she could conclude, the taller of the 
two, who had also been the chief speaker in the above con- 
versation, turned, and she saw his hand begrimed though it 
was with dirt and dark with many a disgraceful trick, go to 
his heart in a gesture too natural to be anything but invol- 
untary. 

“ Is he hurt ? ” gasped he, but in how different a tone 
from that of the woman who had used the same words a few 
minutes before. Then seeing that the persons who ad- 
dressed him were ladies and one of them at least a very 
beautiful one, took off his hat with an easy action, that to- 
gether with what they had heard, proved him to be one of 
that most dangerous class among us, a gentleman who has 
gone thoroughly and irretrievably to the bad. 

“ I am afraid he is, sir,” said Paula. “ He was attempt- 
ing to cross the road, and a horse advancing hurriedly, struck 
him.” She had not courage to say her horse in face of the 
white and trembling dismay that seized him at these words. 

“Where is he?” cried he. “Where’s mv poor boy?" 


1 66 the sword of damocles. 

And he bcunded up the steps, his hat still in his hand, his 
long unkempt locks flying, and his whole form expressive ol 
the utmost alarm. 

“ Down by the carriage road,” called out Paula, finding it 
impossible for them to keep up with such haste. 

“ But is he much injured ? ” cried a smooth voice at theii 
side. 

They turned ; it was the short thickset man who had 
been the other’s companion in the conversation above re- 
corded. 

“ We trust not,” answered Cicely ; “ his arm received the 
blow, and he suffers very much, but we hope it is not seri- 
ous ; ” and they hurried on. 

They found the father seated on the grass holding the 
little fellow in his arms. The look on his once handsome 
but now thoroughly corrupt and dissipated face, made their 
hearts melt within them. However wicked he might be — and 
that sly treacherous eye, that false impudent lip, that settling 
of the whole face into the mould which Vice applies to all her 
votaries, left no doubt of his complete depravity — he dearly 
loved his child, and love, no matter how it is expressed, or 
in what garb it appears, is a sacred and beautiful thing, and 
ennobles for the time being any creature who displays it. 

“ ’Twas a hard knock up, Dad,” came from the white 
lips of the child as he felt his father’s trembling hand feel 
up and down his arm, “ but I guess the ‘ little fellar ’ can 
stand it.” “ Little feller ” was evidently the name by which 
his father was accustomed to address him. 


LIFE AHD DEATH . 1 67 

“ There are no bones broken,” said the father. “ To be 
lame and maimed too would be — ” 

He did not finish, for a delicately gloved hand was here 
laid on his sleeve, and a gentle voice whispered, “ Money 
cannot pay for an injury like that, but please accept this; 1 
and Paula thrust a purse into his hand. 

He clutched it eagerly, but at her next request that he 
should tell her where he lived that they might inquire after 
the boy, he shook his head with a return of his old em- 
phasis. 

“The haunts of bats and jackals are not for ladies.” 
Then as he caught sight of her pitiful face bending in fare- 
well over the little urchin, some remembrance perhaps of the 
days when he had a right to stoop to the ear of beautiful 
women and walk unrebuked at their side, returned to him 
from the past, and respectfully lowering his voice, he asked 
her name. 

She gave it and he seemed to lay it away in his mind , 
then as the ladies turned to remount their horses, rose and 
began carrying the little fellow off. As he vanished in the 
turn of the path that led towards the main entrance, they 
perceived a tall dark figure arise from a seat in the distance 
and stand looking after him, with a leer on its face and a 
malicious hugging of itself in a long black cloak, that pro- 
claimed her to be the same ominous being who had before 
so grievously startled them. 


XVI. 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ And my imaginations are as foul 
As Vulcan’s smithy.” — Hamlet. 

** Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ; 

And He that might the vantage best have took 
Found out the remedy.'’ 

— Measure for Measure. 

Mrs. Svlvester reclining on the palest of blue couches 
in the slanting sunlight of an April afternoon, is a study foi 
a painter. Not that such inspiring loveliness breathed from 
her person, conspicuous as it was for its rich and indolent 
grace, but because in every attitude of her large and well 
formed limbs, in every raise of the thick white lids from eyes 
whose natural brightness was obscured by the mist of aim- 
less fancies, she presented such an embodiment of luxurious 
ease, one might almost imagine they were gazing upon the 
favorite Sultana of some eastern court, or, to be for once 
poetical as the subject demands, a full blown Egyptian lotos 
floating in hushed enjoyment on the placid waters of its na- 
tive stream. Indeed for all the blonde character of her 
beauty, there was certainly something oriental about the 
physique of this favored child of fortune. Had the tint of 
her skin been richened to a magnolia bloom instead of re* 


LIFE AND DEATH 


169 


minding you of that description accorded to the complexion 
of one of Napoleon’s sisters, that it looked like white satin 
seen through pink glass, she would have passed in any Eas- 
tern market, for a rare specimen of Circassian beauty. 

But Mr. Sylvester coming home fatigued and harassed, 
cared little for Circassian beauties or Oriental odalisques. 
It was a welcome that he desired, and such refreshment as a 
quick eye and ready hand can bestow when guided by a 
tender and loving heart ; or so thought the watchful Paula 
as she glided from her room at the sound of his step in the 
hall, and met him coming weary and disheartened from the 
side of Ona’s couch. The sight of her revived him at once. 

“ Well, little one, what have you been doing to-day ? ” 

Instantly a shade fell over her countenance. “ I hardly 
know how to tell you. It has been a day of great experiences 
to me. I am literally shaken with them. I have been want- 
ing to talk to Ona about what I have seen and heard, but 
thought I had best wait till you came home, for I could not 
repeat the story twice.” 

“ What ! you look pale. Nothing has happened to 
frighten you I hope,” exclaimed he, leading her back to Ona’s 
side, who stirred a little, and presently deigned to take an 
upright position. 

“ I do not know if it is fear or horror,” cried Paula, shud- 
dering ; ‘T have seen a fearful woman — But first I ought to 
tell you that I took a ride with Miss Stuyvesant in the Park 
this morning — ” 

“ Yes, and persisted in going for that lady on horseback 


I/O 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES , 


instead of sending the groom after her, and all starting from 
the front of our house,” murmured Mrs. Sylvester with lazy 
chagrin. 

Paula smiled, but otherwise took no notice of this stand 
ing topic of disagreement. 

“ It was a beautiful day,” she proceeded, “ and we en- 
joyed it very much, but we were so unfortunate as to run 
over a little boy, at that place where the equestrian road 
crosses the foot path; a lame child, Mr. Sylvester, who 
could not get out of our way ; poor too, with a ragged jacket 
on which seemed to make it all the worse.” 

Ona gave a shrug with her white shoulders, that seemed 
to question this. “ Did you injure him very much ? ” 
queried she, with a show of interest ; not sufficient how- 
ever to impair her curiosity as to the cut of one of her nails. 

“ I cannot say ; his little arm was struck, and when I 
went to pick him up, he lay back in my lap and moaned till 
I thought my heart would break. But that was not the 
worst that happened. As we went hurrying up the walk 
to find the child’s father, we were met by a woman wrapped 
in a black cloak whose long and greasy folds seemed like 
the symbol of her own untold depravity. Her glance as 
she encountered the child writhing in pain at my feet, made 
my heart stand still. It was more than malignant, it was 
actually fiendish. ‘ Is he hurt ? * she asked, and it seemed 
as if she gloated over the question ; she evidently longed 
to hear that he was, longed to be told that he would die ; 
and when I inquired if she was his mother, she broke into 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


17 


a string of laughter, that seemed to darken the daylight 
‘ His mother ! O yes, we look alike, don’t we ! ’ she ex- 
claimed, pointing with a mocking gesture frightful to see, 
first at his eyes which were very blue and beautiful, and then 
at her own which were dark as evil thoughts could make 
them. I never saw anything so dreadful. Malignancy ! 
and towards a little lame child ! what could be more hor- 
rible ! ” 

Mr. Sylvester and his wife exchanged looks, then the 
former asked, “ Did she follow you, Paula ? ” 

“ No ; after telling me that I — But I cannot repeat what 
she said,” exclaimed the young girl with a quick shudder. 
“ Since I came home,” she musingly continued, “ I have 
looked and looked at my face in the glass, but I cannot be- 
lieve that what she declared is true. There is no similarity 
between us, could never have been any : I will not have it 
that she ever saw in all the days of her life such a picture as 
that in her glass.” And with a sudden gesture Paula started 
up and pointed to herself as she stood reflected in one of 
the tall mirrors with which Ona’s boudoir abounded. 

“ And did she dare to make any comparison between 
you and her own degraded self?” exclaimed Mr. Sylvester, 
with a glance at the exquisite vision of pure girlhood thus 
doubly presented to his notice. 

“ Yes, what I am, she was once, or so she said. And it 
may be true. I have never suffered sorrow or experienced 
wrong, and cannot measure their power to carve the human 
face with such lines as I beheld on that woman’s counte* 


172 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES, 


nance to-day. But do not let us talk of her any more. She 
left us at last, and we found the child’s father. Mr. Sylvester,” 
Bhe suddenly asked, “ are there to be found in this city, men 
occupying honorable positions and as such highly esteemed, 
who like Damocles of old, may be said to sit under the con- 
stant terror of a falling sword in the shape of some possible 
disclosure, that if made, would ruin their position before the 
world forever ? ” 

Mr. Sylvester started as if he had been shot. “ Paula ! ” 
cried he, and instantly was silent again. He did not look 
at his wife, but if he had, he would, have perceived that even 
her fair skin was capable of blanching to a yet more start- 
ling whiteness, and that her sleepy eyes could flash open with 
something like expression in their lazy depths. 

“ I mean,” dreamily continued Paula, absorbed in her 
own remembrance, “ that if what we overheard said by the 
father of that child to-day is true, some one of our promi- 
nent men, whose life is not all it appears, is standing on the 
verge of possible exposure and shame ; that a hound is on 
his track in the form of a starving man ; and that sooner or 
later he will have to pay the price of' an unprincipled crea- 
ture’s silence, or fall into public discredit like some others of 
whom we have lately read.” Then as silence filled the 
room, she added, “ It makes me tremble to think that a man 
of means and seeming honor should be placed in such a 
position, but worse still that we may know such a one and 
be ignorant of his misery and his shame.” 

“ It is getting time for me to dress,” murmured Ona, sink- 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


173 


ing back on her pillow and speaking in hei most languid 
tone of voice. “ Could you not hasten your story a little 
Paula ? ” 

But Mr. Sylvester with a hurried glance at the closing 
eyes of his wife, requested on the contrary that she would 
explain herself more definitely. “ Ona will pardon the 
delay,” said he, with a set, strained politeness that called up 
the least little quiver of suppressed sarcasm about the rosy 
infantile lips that he evidently did not consider it worth his 
while to notice. 

“ But that is all,” said Paula. However she repeated as 
nearly as she could just what the boy’s father had said. At 
the conclusion Mr. Sylvester rose. 

“ What kind of a looking man was he ? ” said that gen- 
tleman as he crossed to the window. 

“ Well, as nearly as I can describe, he was tall, dark and 
seedy, with a shock of black hair and a pair of black whis- 
kers that floated on the wind as he walked. He was evi- 
dently of the order of decayed gentleman, and his manner of 
talking, especially in the profuse use he made of his arms 
and hands, was decidedly foreign. Yet his speech was pure 
and withoirt accent.” 

Mr. Sylvester’s face as he asked the next question was 
comparatively cheerful. “ Was the other man with whom 
he was talking, as dark and foreign as himself ? ” 

“ O no, he was round and jovial, a little too insinuating 
perhaps, in his way of speaking to ladies, but otherwise a 
x well enough appearing man.” 


i/4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Mr. Sylvester bowed and looked at his watch. (Why do 
gentlemen always consult their watches even in the face of 
the clock ?) “ Ona, you are right, ” said he, “ it is time you 
were dressing for dinner.” And concluding with a word ®r 
two of sympathy as to the peculiar nature of Paula’s adven 
tures as he called them, he hastened from the room and pro* 
seeded to his little refuge above. 

“He has not asked me what became of the child,” 
thought Paula, with a certain pang of surprise. “ I expected 
him to say, ‘ Shall we not try and see the little fellow, 
Paula ? ’ if only to allow me to explain that the child’s father 
would not tell me where they lived. But the later affair has 
evidently put the child out of his head. And indeed it is 
only natural that a business man should be more interested 
in such a fact as I have related, than in the sprained arm of a 
wretched creature’s ‘little feller.’ ” And she turned to assist 
Ona, who had arisen from her couch and was now absorbed 
in the intricacies of an uncommonly elaborate toilet. 

“ Those men did not mention any names ? ” suddenly 
queried that lady, looking with an expression of careful 
anxiety, at the twist of her back hair, in the small hand-mir 
ror she held over her shoulder. 

“ No,” said Paula, dropping a red rose into the blonde 
locks she was so carefully arranging. “ He expressly said 
he did not know the name of the person to whom he alluded. 
It was a strange conversation for me to overhear, was it 
not ?” she remarked, happy to have interested her cousin in 
anything out of the domains of fashion. 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


'7b 

“ I don’t know — certainly — of course — ’’ returned Mrs. 
Sylvester with some incoherence. “ Do you think red looks 
as well with this black as the lavender would do ? ” she ram- 
bled on in her lightest tone, pulling out a box of feathers. 

Paula gave her a little wistful glance of disappointment 
and decided in favor of the lavender. 

“ I am bound to look well to-night if I never do so again,” 
said Ona. They were all going to a public reception at 
it which a foreign lord was expected to be present “ How 
fortunate I am to have a perfect little hairdresser in my own 
family, without being obliged to send for some gossipy, fussy 
old Madame with her stories of how such and such a one 
looked when dressed for the Grand Duke’s ball, or how Mrs. 
So and So always gave her more than her price because she 
rolled up puffs so exquisitely.” And stopping to aid the 
deft girl in substituting the lavender feather for the red rose 
in her hair — she forgot to ask any more questions. 

“Ona,” remarked her husband, coming into the room on 
his way down to dinner — Mrs. Sylvester never dined when 
she was going to any grand entertainment ; it made her look 
flushed she said — “ I am not in the habit of troubling you 
about your family matters, but have you heard from your 
father of late ? ” 

Mrs. Sylvester turned from her jewel-casket and calmly 
surveyed his face. It was fixed and formal, the face he 
turned to his servants and sometimes — to his wife. “ No,*' 
said she, with a light little gesture as though she were speak 


176 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


ing of the most trivial matter. “ In one respect at least, 
papa is like an angel, his visits are few and far between.” 

Mr. Sylvester’s eye-brows drew heavily together. For 
a man with a smile of strange sweetness, he could some- 
times look very forbidding. u When was he here last?” 
he inquired in a tone more commanding than he knew. 

She did not appear to resent it. “ Let me see,” mused 
she. “ When was it I lost my diamond ear-ring ? 0 1 re- 

member, it was on the eve of New Year’s day a year ago ; 
I recollect because I had to wear pearls with my garnet 
brocade,” she pettishly sighed. “ And papa came the next 
week, after you had given me the money for a new pair. 
I have reason to remember that , for not a dollar did he leave 
me.” 

“ Ona ! ” exclaimed her husband, shrinking back in un- 
controllable surprise, while his eyes flashed inquiringly to her 
ears in which two noble diamonds were brilliantly shining. 

“ O,” she cried, just raising one snowy hand to those 
sparkling ornaments, while a faint blush, the existence of 
which he had sometimes doubted, swept over her careless 
face. “ I was enabled to procure them in time ; but for a 
whole two months I had to go without diamonds.” She did 
not say that she had bartered her wedding jewels to make 
up the sum she needed, but he may have understood that 
without being told. 

“ And that is the last time you have seen him ? 1 H* 
held her eyes with his, she could not look away. 

“ The very last, sir ; strange to say.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 1 77 

His glance shifted from her face and he turned with a 
bow towards the door. 

“ May I ask,” she slowly inquired as he moved across 
the floor, “ what is the reason of this sudden interest in poor 
papa ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said he, pausing and looking back, not with- 
out some emotion of pity in his glance. “ I am sometimes 
struck with a sense of the duty I owe you, in helping you 
to bear the burden of certain secret responsibilities which I 
fear may sometimes prove too heavy for you.” 

She gave a little rippling laugh that only sounded hollow 
to the image listening in the glass. “You choose strange 
times in which to be struck,” said she, holding up two 
dresses for his inspection, with a lift of her brows evidently 
meant as an inquiry as to which he thought the most be- 
coming. 

“Conscience is the chooser, not I,” declared he, for once 
allowing himself to ignore the weighty question of dress thus 
propounded. 

His wife gave a little toss of her head and he left the 
room. 

“ I should like Edward very much,” murmured she in a 
burst of confidence to her own reflection in the glass, “ if 
only he would not bother himself so much about that same 
disagreeable conscience.” 

“You look unhappy,” said Mr. Sylvester to Paula as 
they came from the dining-room. “ Have the adventures of 


1 7S THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

the day made such an impression upon you that you will not 
be able to enjoy the evening’s festivities ? ” 

She lifted her face and the quick smile came. 

“ I do not like to see your brow so clouded,” continued 
he, smoothing his own to meet her searching eye. “ Smiles 
should sit on the lips of youth, or else why are they so rosy.” 

“Would you have me smile in face of my first glimpse o f 
wickedness,” asked she, but in a gentle tone that robbed her 
words of half their reproach. “You must remember that I 
have had but little experience with the world. I have lived 
all my life in a town of wholesome virtues, and while here I 
have been kept from contact with anything low or base. I 
have never known vice, and now all in a moment I feel as if 
I have been bathed in it.” 

He took her by the hand and drew her gently towards 
him. “Does your whole being recoil so from evil, my 
Paula ? What will you do in this wicked world ? What 
will you say to the sinner when you meet him — as you 
must ? ” 

“ I don’t know ; it’s a problem I have never been brought 
to consider. I feel as if launched on a dismal sea for which 
I have neither chart nor compass. Life was so joyous to me 
this morning — ” a flush swept over her cheek but he did not 
notice it — “ I held, or seemed to hold, a cup of white wine 
in my hand, but suddenly as I looked at it, it turned black 
and—” 

Ah, the outreach, the dismal breaking away of thought 
into the unfathomable, that lies in the pause of an and ! 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


179 


“ And do you refuse to drink a cup across which has 
fallen a shadow,” murmured Mr. Sylvester, his eyes fixed on 
her face, “ the inevitable shadow of that great mass of human 
frailty and woe which has been accumulating from the foun- 
dation of the world ? ” 

“ No, no, I cannot, and retain my humanity. If there is 
such evil in the world, its pressure must drive it across the 
path of innocence.” 

“ And you accept the cup ? ” 

“1 must; but oh, my vanished beliefs! This morning 
the wine of my life was pure and white, now it is black and 
befouled. What will make it clean again ?” 

With a sigh Mr. Sylvester dropped her hand and turned 
towards the mantle-piece. It was April as I have said, and 
there was no fire in the grate, but he posed his foot on the 
fender and looked sadly down at the empty hearthstone. 

“ Paula,” said he after a space of pregnant silence, “ it 
had to come. The veil of the temple must be rent in 
every life. Evil is too near us all for us to tread long upon 
the flowers without starting up the adders that hide be- 
neath them. You had to have your first look into the 
cells of darkness, and perhaps it is best you had it here and 
now. The deeps are for men’s eyes as well as the starry 
heavens.” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

u There are some persons,” he went on slowly, “ you know 
them, who tread the ways of life with their eyelids closed 
to everything but the strip of velvet lawn on which they 


i8o 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


choose to walk. Earth’s sighs and deep-drawn groans arc 
nothing to them. The world may swing on in its way to 
perdition ; so long as their pathway feels soft, they neither 
heed nor care. But you do not desire to be one of these, 
Paula! With your great soul and your strong heart, you 
would not ask to sit in a flowery maze, while the rest of the 
world went sliding on and down into wells of destruction, 
you might have made pools of healing by the touch of your 
womanly 'sympathy.” 

“ No, no,” 

“ I cannot tell you, I dare not tell you,” he went on in 
a strange pleading voice that tore at the very roots of her 
heart, and rung in her memory forever, “ what evil underlies 
the whole strata of life ! At home and abroad, on our 
hearthstones and within our offices, the mocking devil sits. 
You can scarcely walk a block, my little one, without en- 
countering a man or brushing against the dress of a woman 
across whose soul the black shadow lies heavier than any 
words of his or hers could tell. What the man you saw 
to-day, said of one unhappy being in this city, is true, God 
help us all, of many. Dark spots are easier acquired 
than blotted out, my Paula. In business as' in society, one 
needs to carry the white shield of a noble purpose or a self- 
forgetting love, to escape the dripping of the deadly upas 
tree that branches above all humanity. I have walked its 
ways, my darling, and I know of what I speak. Your 
white robe is spotless but — ” 

“ O there is where the pain comes in ” she cried ; lt there. 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


1 8 1 

just there, is where the dagger strikes. She says she was 
once like me. O, could any temptation, any suffering, any 
wrong or misfortune that might befall me,, ever bring me tc 
where she is ! If it could — ” 

“ Paula ! ” This time his voice came authoritatively. 
“You are making too much of a frenzied woman’s impul- 
sive exclamation. To her darkened and despairing eyes 
any young woman of a similar style of beauty would have 
called forth the same remark. It was a sign that she was 
not entirely given up to evil, that she could remember her 
youth. Instead of feeling contaminated by her words, you 
ought to feel, that unconsciously to yourself, your fresh 
young countenance with its innocent eyes did an angel’s 
work to-day. They made her recall what she was in the 
days of her own innocence ; and who can tell what may 
follow such a recollection.” 

“O Mr. Sylvester,” said she, “you fill me with shame. 
If I could think that,” — 

“ You can, nothing appeals to the heart of crime like the 
glance of perfect innocence. If evil walks the world, God’s 
ministers walk it also, and none can tell in what glance of 
the eye or what touch of the hand, that ministry will speak.” 

It was her turn now to take his hand in hers. “ O how 
good, how thoughtful you are ; you have comforted me and 
you have taught me. I thank you very much.” 

With a look she did not perceive, he drew his hand 
away. “ I am glad I have helped you, Paula ; there is but 
one thing more to say, and this I would emphasize with 


1 82 


THE SWORD OF DA MOCLES. 


every saddened look you have ever met in all youi life 
Great sins make great sufferers. Side by side came the two 
dreadful powers of vice and retribution into the world, and 
side by side will they keep till they sink at last into the 
awful deeps of the bottomless pit. When you turn your 
back on a man who has committed a crime, one more door 
shuts in his darkened spirit.” 

The tears were falling from Paula’s eyes now. He 
looked at them with strange wistfulness and involuntarily 
his hand rose to her head, smoothing her locks with fatherly 
touches. “ Do not think,” said he, “ that I would lessen by 
a hair’s breadth your hatred of evil. I can more easily bear 
to see the shadow upon your cup of joy than upon the banner 
of truth you carry. These eyes must lose none of their inner 
light in glancing compassionately on your fellow-men. Only 
remember that divinity itself has stooped to rescue, and let 
the thought make your contact with weary, wicked-hearted 
humanity a little less trying and a little more hopeful to you. 
And now, my dear, that is enough of serious talk for to-day. 
We are bound for a reception, you know, and it is time we 
were dressing. “ Do you want me to tell you a secret ? 
asked he in a light mysterious tone, as he saw her eyes stil 
filling. 

She glanced up with sudden interest. 

“ I know it is treason,” resumed he, “ I am fully aware of 
the grave nature of my offence ; but Paula I hate all public 
receptions, and shall only be able to enjoy myself to-night 
just so much as I see that you are doing so. Life has its dark 


LIFE AND DEATH. l8j 

portals and its bright ones. This is one that you must entei 
with your most brilliant smiles.” 

“ And they shall not be lacking,” said she. “ When a 
treasure-box of thought is given us, we do not open it and 
scatter its contents abroad, but lay it away where the heart 
keeps its secrets, to be opened in the hush of night when we 
re alone with our own souls and God.” 

He smiled and she moved towards the door. “ None the 
less do we carry with us wherever we go, the remembrance 
of our hidden treasure,” she smilingly added, looking back 
upon him from the stair. 

And again as upon the first night of her entrance into 
the house, did he stand below and watch her as she softly 
went up, her lovely face flashing one moment against the 
dark back-ground of the luxurious bronze, towering from 
the platform behind, then glowing with faint and fainter 
lustre, as the distance widened between them and she van- 
ished in the regions above. 

She did not see the toss of his arm with which he threw 
aff the burden that rested upon his soul* 


XVII. 


GRAVE AND GAY. 

“ No scandal about Queen Elizabeth I hope.” — Shejuda*. 

Stands Scotland where it did ? ” — Macbbth. 

“Who is that talking with Miss Stuyvesant ? ” asked Mr 
Sylvester, approaching his wife during one of the lulls that 
will fall at times upon vast assemblies. 

Mrs. Sylvester followed the direction of his glance and 
immediately responded, “ O that is Mr. Ensign, one of the 
best partis of the season. He evidently knows where to pay 
his court.” 

“ I inquired because he has just requested me to honoi 
him with a formal introduction to Paula.” 

“ Indeed ! then oblige him by all means ; it would be a 
great match for her. To say nothing of his wealth, he is 
haut ton , and his red whiskers will not look badly beside 
Paula’s dark hair.” 

Mr. Sylvester frowned, then sighed, but in a few minutes 
Paula observed him approaching with Mr. Ensign. At once 
her hitherto pale cheek flushed, but the young gentleman did 
not seem to object to that, and after the formal introduction 
which he had sought was over, he exclaimed in his own 
bright ringing tones, 


LIFE AND DEATH, 


185 

“ The fates have surely forgotten theii usual role of un~ 
propitiousness. I did not dare hope to meet you here to- 
night, Miss Fairchild. Was the ride all that your fancy 
painted ? ” 

‘O,” said she, speaking very low and glancing around, 
* do not allude to it here. We had an adventure shortly 
after you parted from us.” 

“ An adventure ! and no cavalier at your side ! If I 
could but have known ! Was it so serious ? ” he inquired in 
a moment, seeing her look grave. 

“ Ask Miss Stuyvesant said she. “ I cannot talk about 
it any more to-night. Besides the music carries off one’s 
thoughts. It is like a joyous breeze that whirls away the 
thistle-down whether it will or no.” 

He gave her a short quick look grave enough in its way 
but responded with his usual graceful humor, “ The thistle- 
down is too vicious a sprite to be beguiled away so easily. 
If I were to give my opinion on the subject, I should say 
there was method in its madness. If you have been brought 
up in the country, as I suspect from your remark, you must 
know that the white floating ball is not as harmless as it 
would lead you to imagine. It is a meddlesome nobody, 
that’s what it is, and like some country gossips I know 
launches forth from a pure love of mischief to establish his 
prickers in his neighbor’s field ” 

“ His ! I thought it must be feminine at least to fulfil 
the conditions you mention. A male gossip, O fie ! I shall 
never have patience with a thistle-ball after this.” 


Ibb 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Well,” laughed he, “ I did start with the intention of 
making it feminine, but I caught a glimpse of your eyes and 
lost my courage. I did what I could,” added he with a 
mirthful glance. 

“ So do the thistles,” cried she. Then while both voices 
joined in a merry laugh, she continued, “ But where have we 
strayed ? For a moment it seemed as if we were on the hills 
at Grotewell ; I could almost see the blue sky.” 

* And I,” said he, with his eyes on her face. 

“I am sure the brooks bubbled.” 

u I distinctly heard a bird singing.” 

“ It was a whippowill.” 

“ But my name is Clarence ? ” 

And here both being young and without a care in the 
world, they laughed again. And the crowded perfumed 
room seemed to freshen as with a whiff of mountain air. 

“ You love the country, Miss Fairchild ? ” 

“ Yes ; ” and her smile was the reflection of the summer- 
lands that arose before her at the word. “ With the right 
side of my heart do I love the spot where nature speaks and 
man is dumb.” 

u And with the left ? ” 

“ I love the place where great men congregate to face 
their destiny and control it.” 

“ The latter is the deeper love,” said he. 

She nodded her head and then said, “ I need both to 
make me happy. Sometimes as I walk these city streets 
l feel as if my very longing to escape to the heart of the hills 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


By 


would carry me there. I remember when I was a child, 1 
was one day running through a meadow, when suddenly a 
whole flock of birds flew up from the grass and surrounded 
icy head. I was not sure but what I should be caught up 
and carried away by the force of their flight ; and when they 
rose to mid heaven, something in my breast seemed to foi:ow 
them. So it is often with me here, only that it is the rush oi 
my thoughts that threatens such a Hegira. “ Yet if I were 
to be transported to my native hills, I know I should long to 
be back again.” 

“ The mountain lassie has wandered into the courts of 
the king. The perfume of palaces is not easily forgotten.” 

Her eye turned towards Mr. Sylvester standing near 
them upright and firm, talking to a group of attentive gentle- 
men every one of whom boasted a name of more than local 
celebrity. “ Without a royal heart to govern, there would 
be no palace said she, and blushed under a sudden sense 
of the possible interpretation he might give to her words, 
till the rose in her hand looked pallid. 

But he had followed her glance and understood her 
better than she thought. “ And Mr. Sylvester has such a 
heart, so a hundred good fellows have told me. You are 
fortunate to see the city from the loop-hole of such a home 
as his.” 

“ It is more than a loop-hole,” said she. 

“ Of that I shall never be satisfied till I see it ? ” 

And being content with the look he received, he took 
her on his arm and led her into the midst of the dancers. 


1 88 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Meanwhile in a certain corner not far off, two gentlemen 
were talking. 

“ Sylvester shows off well to-night.” 

“He always does. With such a figure as that, a man 
i needs but to enter a room to make himself felt. But then 
he’s a good talker too. Ever heard him speak ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Fine voice, true snap, right ring. Great favorite at 
elections. The fact is, Sylvester is a remarkable man.” 

“ Hum, ha, so I should judge.” 

“ And so fortunate ! He has never been known to run 
foul in a great operation. Put your money in his hand and 
whew ! — your fortune is as good as made.” 

The other, a rich man, connected heavily with the mining 
business in Colorado, smiled with that bland overflow of the 
whole countenance which is sometimes seen in large men of 
great self-importance. 

“ It’s a pity he’s gone out of Wall Street,” continued his 
companion. “ The younger fry feel now something like a 
flock of sheep that has lost its bell-wether.” 

“ They straggle — eh ? ” returned his portly friend with an 
increase of his smile that was not altogether pleasant. “ So 
Sylvester has left Wall Street ? ” 

“ He closed his last enterprise two weeks before accept- 
ing the Presidency of the Madison Bank. Stuyvesant is 
down on speculation, and well — It looks better you know ; 
the Madison Bank is an old institution, and Sylvester is am« 
bitious. There’ll be no reckless handling of funds there' 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


I89 


“ No ! ” What was there in that no that made the othei 
look up ? “ I’m not acquainted with Sylvester myself. Has 

he much family ? ” 

*' A wife — there she is, that handsome woman talking 
with Ditman, — and a daughter, niece or somebody who just 
now is setting all our young scapegraces by the ears. You 
can see her if you just crane your neck a little.” 

“ Humph, ha, very pretty, very pretty. How much do 
you suppose Mrs. Sylvester is worth as she stands, diamonds 
you know, and all that ? ” 

“ Well I should say some where near ten thousand ; that 
sprig in her hair cost a clean five.” 

“ So, so. They live in a handsome house I suppose ? ” 

“ A regular palace, corner of Fifth Avenue and — 
street. 

“ All his ? ” 

“ Nobody’s else I reckon.” 

“ Sports horses and carriage I suppose ? ” 

“Of course.” 

“ Yacht, opera box ? ” 

“ No reason why he shouldn’t.” 

“ What is his salary ? ” 

“ A nominal sum, five or ten thousand perhaps.” 

•“ Owns good share of the bank’s stock I presume? " 

“ Enough to control it.” 

“ Below par though ? ” 

“ A trifle, going up, however.” 

“ And don't speculate ? ” 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


i go 

The way this man drawled his words was excessively 
disagreeable. 

“Not that any one knows of. He’s made his fortune 
and now asks only to enjoy it.” 

The man from the West strutted back and looked at his 
companion knowingly. “ What do you think of my judg- 
ment, Stadler ? ” 

“ None better this side of the Pacific.” 

“ Pretty good at spying out cracks, eh ? ” 

“ I wouldn’t like to undertake the puttying up that would 
deceive you.” 

“ Humph ! Well then, mark this. In two months from 
to-day you will see Mr. Sylvester rent his house and go south 
for his health, or the pretty one over there will marry one of 
the scapegraces you mention, who will lend the man who 
don't engage in any further ventures, more than one or two 
hundred thousand dollars.” 

“ Ha, you know something.” 

“ I own mines in Colorado and I have my points.” 

“ And Mr. Sylvester ? ” 

“ Will find them too sharp for him.” 

And having made his joke, he yielded to the other’s ap- 
parent restlessness, and they sauntered off. 

They did not observe a pale, demure, little lady that 
sat near them abstractedly nodding her dainty head to the 
remarks of a pale-whiskered youth at her side, nor notice the 
emotion with which she suddenly rose at their departure and 
dismissed her chattering companion on some impromptu 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


I 9 1 


errand. It was only one of the ordinary group of dancers, a 
pretty, plainly dressed girl, but her name was Stuyvesant. 

.Rising with a decision that gave a very attractive color to 
her cheeks, she hastily looked around. A trio of young 
gentlemen started towards her but she gave them no encour- 
agement ; her eye had detected Mr. Sylvester’s tall figure a 
few feet off and it was to him she desired to speak. But at 
her first movement in his direction, her glance encountered 
another face, and like a stream that melts into a rushing 
torrent, her purpose seemed to vanish, leaving her quivering 
with a new emotion of so vivid a character she involuntarily 
looked about her for a refuge. 

But in another instant her eyes had again sought the 
countenance that had so moved her, and finding it bent 
upon her own, faltered a little and unconsciously allowed 
the lilies she was carrying to drop from her hand. Before 
she realized her loss, the face before her had vanished, and 
with it something of her hesitation and alarm. 

With a hasty action she drew near Mr. Sylvester. “ Will 
you lend me your arm for a minute?” she asked, with her 
usual appealing look rendered doubly forcible by the expo 
rience of a moment before. 

“ Miss Stuyvesant ! I am happy to see you.” 

Never had his face looked more cheerful she thought, 
never had his smile struck her more pleasantly. 

“ A little talk with a little girl will not hinder you toe 
much, will it ? ” she queried, glancing at the group of gen- 
tlemen that had shrunk back at her approach. 


*92 


THE SWORD uf DAMOCLES. 


" Do you call that hindrance which relieves one fron 
listening to quotations of bank stock at an evening lecep 
tion ? ” 

She shook her head with a confused movement, and led 
him up before a stand of flowering exotics. 

“I want to tell you something,” she said eagerly but 
with a marked timidity also, the tall form beside her looked 
so imposing for all its encouraging bend. “ I beg your par- 
don if I am doing wrong, but papa regards you with such 
esteem and — Mr. Sylvester do you know a man by the name 
of Stadler ? ” 

Astonished at such a question from lips so young and 
dainty, he turned and surveyed her for a moment with quick 
surprise. Something in her aspect struck him. He an- 
swered at once and without circumlocution. “Yes, if you 
refer to that spry keen-faced man, just entering the supper- 
room.” 

“Do you know his companion?” she proceeded ; “the 
portly, highly pompous-looking gentleman with the gold 
eye-glasses ? Look quickly.” 

“No.” There was an uneasiness in his tone however 
that struck her painfully. 

“ He is a stranger in town ; has not the honor of your 
acquaintance he says, but from the questions he asked, 1 
judge he has a great interest in your affairs. He spoke of 
being connected with mines in Colorado. I was sitting 
behind a curtain and overheard what was said.” 

Mr. Sylvester turned pale and regarded her attentively 


LIFE AND DEATH 1 93 

“Might I be so bold,” he inquired after a moment, “as to 
ask you what that was ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, certainly, but it is even harder for me to repeat 
than it Wias for me to hear. He inquired about your domes- 
tic concerns, your home and your income,” she murmured 
blushing ; “ and then said, in what I thought was a some- 
what exulting tone, that in two months or so we should see 
you go South for your health or — Is not that enough for 
me to tell you, Mr. Sylvester ? ” 

He gave her a short stare, opened his lips as if to speak, 
then turned abruptly aside and began picking mechanically 
at the blossoms before him. 

“ I, of course, do not know what men mean when they 
talk of possessing points. But the leer and side glance which 
accompanies such talk, have a universal language we all 
understand, and I felt that I must warn you of that man’s 
malice if only because papa regards you so highly.” 

He shrank as if touched on a sore place, but bowed and 
answered the wistful appeal of her glance with a shadow of 
his usual smile, then he turned, and looking towards the 
door through which the two men had disappeared, made a 
movement as if he would follow. But remembering himself, 
escorted her to a seat, saying as he did so : 

“ You are very kind, Miss Stuyvesant ; please say noth- 
ing of this to Paula.” 

She bowed and a flitting smile crossed her upturned 
countenance. “ I am not much of a gossip, Mr. Sylvester, 
or I should have been tempted to have carried my informa- 
tion to my father instead of to you.” 


194 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

He understood the implied promise in this remark and 
gave the hand on his arm a quick pressure, before relinquish- 
ing her to the care of the pale-complexioned youth who by 
this time had returned to her side. 

In another moment Paula came up on the arm of a black- 
whiskered gentleman all shirt front and eye-glasses. “O 
Cicely,” she cried, (she called Miss Stuyvesant, Cicely now) 
“ is it not a delightful evening? ” 

“Are you enjoying yourself so much? “inquired that 
somewhat agitated little lady, with a glance at the counten- 
ance of her friend’s attendant. 

“ I fear it would scarcely seem consistent in me now to 
say no,” returned the radiant girl, with a laughing glance 
towards the same gentleman. 

But when they were alone, the gentleman having de- 
parted on some of the innumerable errands with which ladies 
seem to delight in afflicting their attendant cavaliers at balls 
or receptions, she atoned for that glance by remarking, 

“ I do not find the average partner that falls to one’s lot 
in such receptions all that fancy paints.” And then finding 
she had repeated a phrase of Mr. Ensign’s, blushed, though 
no one stood near her but Cicely. 

“Fancy’s brush would need to be dipped in but two 
colors to present to our eye the mass of them,” was Cicely’s 
laughing reply. “ A streak of black for the coat, and a daub 
of white for the shirt front. Voila tout." 

“With perhaps a dash of red in some cases,” murmured 
a voice over their shoulders 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


! 95 


They turned with hurried blushes. ‘Ah, Mr. Ensign,” 
quoth Cicely in unabashed gaiety, “ we reserve red for the 
exceptions. We did not intend to include our acknowledged 
friends in our somewhat sweeping assertion.” 

‘‘ Ah, I see, the black streak and the white daub are a 
symbol of, ‘Er — Miss Stuyvesant — very warm this even 
ing ! Have an ice, do. /always have an ice after dancing ; 
so refreshing, you know.' ” 

The manner in which he imitated the usual languid drawl 
N of certain of the young scapegraces heretofore mentioned, 
was irresistable. Paula forgot her confusion in her mirth. 

“ You are blessed with a capacity for playing both roles, 
I perceive,” cried Cicely with unusual abandon. “ Well, it is 
convenient, there is nothing like scope.” 

“Unless it is hope,” whispered Mr. Ensign so low that 
only Paula could hear. 

“ But I warn you,” continued Cicely, with a sweet soft 
laugh that seemed to carry her heart far out into the passing 
throng, “ that we have no fondness for the model beau of 
the period. A dish of milk makes a very good supper but it 
looks decidedly pale on the dinner table.” 

“ Yes,” said Paula, eying the various young men that filed 
up and down before them, some pale, some dark, some hand- 
some, some plain, but all smiling and dapper, if not de- 
bonair, “ some men could be endured if only they were not 
men." 

Mr. Ensign gave her a quick look, and while he laughed 
it the paradox, straightened himself like one who could be 


196 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


a man if the occasion called. She saw the action and 
blushed. 

But their conversation was soon interrupted. Mr. Syl- 
vester was seen returning from the supper-room, looking de- 
cidedly anxious, and while Paula was ignorant of what had 
transpired to annoy him, her ready spirit caught the alarm, 
and she was about to rush up to him and address him, when 
one of the waiters approached, and murmuring a few words 
she did not hear, handed him a card upon which she descried 
nothing but a simple circle. Instantly a change crossed his 
already agitated countenance, and advancing to the ladies 
with a word or two that while seemingly cheerful, struck 
Paula as somewhat forced, excused himself with the infor- 
mation that a business friend had been so inconsiderate as 
to importune him for an interview in the hall. And with 
just a nod towards Mr. Ensign, who had drawn back at his 
advance, left them and disappeared in the crowd about the 
door. 

“I do not like these interruptions from business friends 
in a time of pleasure,” cried Paula, looking after him with 
anxious eyes. “ Did you notice how agitated he seemed, 
Cicely ? And half an hour ago he was the picture of calm 
enjoyment.” 

“ Business is beyond our comprehension, Paula,” re- 
turned her friend evasively. “ It is something like a neu- 
ralgic twinge, it takes a mar when he least expects it. Have 
you told Mr. Ensign of our adventure ? ” 

“ No, but I informed Mr. Sylvester and he said such 


LIFE AND DEATH. 1 97 

good, true words to me, Cicely. I can never forget 
them.’* 

“And I told papa; but he only frowned and made some 
observation about the degeneracy of the times, and the num- 
ber of scamps thrown to the top by the modem methods of { 
acquiring instantaneous fortunes.” 

“Your papa is sometimes hard, is he not, Cicely ? ” 

With a flush Miss Stuyvesant allowed her eye to rest for 
a moment on the crowd shifting before her. “ He was dug 
from a quarry of granite, Paula. He is both hard and sub- 
stantial ; capable of being hewn but not of being moulded. 
Of such stuff are formed monuments of enduring beauty and 
solidity. You must do papa justice.” 

“ I do, but I sometimes have a feeling as if the granite 
column would fall and crush me, Cicely.” 

“ You, Paula ? ” 

Before she could again reply, Mr. Sylvester returned. 
His face was still -pale, but it had acquired an expression of 
rigidity even more alarming to Paula than its previous aspect 
of forced merriment. Lifting her by the hand, he drew her 
apart. 

“ I shall have to leave you somewhat abruptly,* 
said he. “ An important matter demands my instant atten 
tion. Bertram is somewhere here, and will see that you 
and Ona arrive home in safety. You won’t allow your 
enjoyment to be clouded by my hasty departure, will 
you?’* 

" Not if it will make you anxious. But I would rather 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES , 


I98 

go home with you now. I am sure Cousin Ona would be 
willing. 0 

But I am not going home at present/’ said he ; and she 
ventured upon no further remonstrance. 

But her enjoyment was clouded; the sight of suffering or 
anxiety on that face was more than she could bear ; and ere 
long she said good-night to Cicely, and accepting the arm 
of Mr. Ensign, who was never very far from her side, pro* 
ceeded to search for her cousin. 

She found her standing in the midst of an admiring 
throng to whom her diamonds, if not her smiles, were an 
object of undoubted interest. She was in the full tide of 
one of her longest and most widely rambling speeches, and 
to Paula, with that stir of anxiety at her breast, was an image 
of self-satisfied complacency from which she was fain to drop 
her eyes. 

“Mrs. Sylvester shares the honors with her husband/’ re- 
marked Mr. Ensign as they drew near. 

“ But not the trials, or the pain, or the care ? ” was Paula’s 
inward comment. 

Mrs. Sylvester was not easily wooed away from a circle 
in which she found herself creating such an impression, but 
at length she yielded to Paula’s importunities, and consented 
to accept young Mr. Sylvester’s attendance to their home 
The next thing was to find Bertram. Mr. Ensign engaged 
to do this. Leaving Paula with her cousin, who may or may 
not have been pleased at this sudden addition to her circle, 
he sought for the young man who as Mr. Mandeville was not 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


I99 


unknown to any of the fashionable men and women of the 
day. It was no easy task, nor did he find him readily, but at 
last he came upon him leaning out of a window and gazing 
at a white lily which he held in his hand. Without pream- 
ble, Mr. Ensign made known his errand, and Bertram at 
once prepared to accompany him back to the ladies. 

* By Jove ! I didn’t know the fellow was so handsome ! ” 
thought the former, and frowned he hardly knew why. Ber- 
tram was not handsome, but then Clarence Ensign was plain, 
which Bertram certainly was not. 

It was to Mr. Ensign’s face however that Paula’s eyes 
turned as the two came up, and he with the ready vivacity 
of his natural temperament observed it, and took courage. 

“ I shall soon wish to measure that loop-hole of which I 
have spoken,” said he. 

And the soft look in her large dark eye as she re- 
sponded, “ It is always open to friends,” filled up the meas- 
ure of his cup of happiness ; a cup which unlike hers, had 
not been darkened that day by the falling of earth’s most dis- 
mal shadows. 


XVIII. 


IN THE NIGHT WATCHES. 

* 4 Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn ? ” — Hkn. nr. 

41 What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight ? ” -Hkn. iv. 

It has been the most delighful evening I have e /ei 
passed,” said Mrs. Sylvester, as she threw aside her rich 
white mantle in her ample boudoir. “ Sarah, two loops on 
that dolman to-morrow ; do you hear ? I thought my arms 
would freeze. Such an elegant gentleman as the Count de 
Frassac is ! He absolutely went wild over you, Paula, but 
not understanding a word of English — O there, if that horiid 
little wretch didn’t drop his spoon on my dress after all ! He 
swore it never touched a thread of it, but just look at that 
spot, right in the middle of a pleating too. Paula, your 
opinion in regard to the lavendar was correct. I heard Mrs. 
Forsyth Jones whisper behind my back that lavendar always 
made blondes look fade . Of course I needed no further 
evidence to convince me that I had entirely succeeded in 
eclipsing her pale-faced daughter. Her daughter ! ” and the 
lazy gurgle echoed softly through the room, “ As if every 
white-haired girl in the city considered herself entitled to be 
called a blonde ! ” She stopped to listen, examining herself 
in the glass near by. “ I thought I heard Edward. It was 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


201 


very provoking in him to leave us in the cavalier manner 
in which he did. I was just going to introduce him to the 
count, not that he would have esteemed it much of an 
honor, Edward I mean, but when one has a good-looking 
husband — Sarah, that curtain over there hangs crooked, pull 
it straight this instant. Did you try the oysters, Paula ? 
They were perfection, I shall have to dismiss Lorenzo with- 
out ceremony and procure me a cook that can make an oys- 
ter fricassee. By the way did you notice — ” and so on and 
on for five minutes additional. Presently she burst forth 
with — “ I do believe I know what it is to be thoroughly sat- 
isfied at last. The consideration which one receives as the 
wife of the president of the Madison bank is certainly very 
gratifying. If I had known I would feel such a change in 
the social atmosphere, I would have advocated Edward s 
dropping speculation long ago. Beauty and wealth may 
help one up the social ladder, but only a settled position 
such as he has now obtained, can carry you safely over the 
top. I feel at last as if we had reached the pinnacle of my 
ambition and had seen the ladder by which we mounted 
thrown down behind us. If I get my costume from Worth 
in time, I shall give a German next month.” 

Paula from her stand at the door — for some minutes she 
had been endeavoring to escape to her room — surveyed her 
cousin in wonder. She had never seen her look as she did 
at that moment. Any one who speaks from the heart, ac- 
quires a certain eloquence, and Ona for once was speaking 
from her heart. The unwonted emotion made her cheeks 


202 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


burn, and even her diamonds, ten thousand dollars worth as 
we have heard declared, were less brilliant than her eyes. 
Paula left her station on the door — sill and glided rapidly 
back to her side. “ O Ona,” said she, “ if you would only 
look like that when — ” she paused, what right had she tr 
venture upon giving lessons to her benefactor. 

“ When what ? ” inquired the other, subsiding at once 
into her naturally languid manner. Then with a total for- 
getfulness of the momentary curiosity that had prompted 
the question, held out her head to the attendant Sarah, 
with a command to be relieved of her ornaments. Paula 
sighed and hastened to her room. She could not bring 
herself to mention her anxiety in regard to the still absent 
master of the house, to this lazily-smiling thoroughly satis- 
fied woman. 

But none the less did she herself sit up in the moonlight, 
listening with bended head for the sound of his step on the 
walk beneath. She could not sleep while he was absent ; 
and yet the thoughts that disturbed her and kept her from 
her virgin pillow could not have been entirely for him, or why 
those wandering smiles that ever and anon passed flitting 
over her cheek, awakening the dimples that slumbered there, 
until she looked more like a dreamy picture of delight than 
a wakeful vision of apprehension. Not entirely for him — 
yet when somewhere towards three o’clock, she heard the 
long delayed step upon the stoop, she started up with 
eager eyes and a nervous gesture that sufficiently betrayed 
how intense was her interest in her benefactor’s welfare 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


20 2 


and happiness. “ If he goes to Ona’s room it is all 
right,” thought she ; “ but if he keeps on upstairs, I shall 
know that something is wrong and that he needs a com- 
forter.” 

He did not stop at Ona’s room ; and struck with alarm, 
Paula opened wide her door and was about to step out f o 
meet him, when she caught a sight of his face, and started 
back. Here was no anxiety, that she could palliate ! The 
very fact that he did not observe her slight form standing 
before him in the brilliant moonlight, proved that a woman’s 
look or touch was not what he was in search of ; and shrink- 
ing sensitively to 'one side, she sat down on the edge of her 
dainty bed, dropping her cheek into her hand with a weary 
troubled gesture from which all the delight had fled and 
only the apprehension remained. Suddenly she started 
alertly up ; he was coming down again, this time with a 
gliding muffled tread. Sliding past her door, he descended 
to the floor below. She could hear the one weak stair in the 
heavy stair-case creak, and — What ! he has passed Ona’s room, 
passed the bronze figure of Luxury on the platform beneath, 
is on his way to the front door, has opened it, shut it softly 
behind him and gone out again into the blank midnight 
streets. What did it mean ? For a moment she thought she 
would run down and awaken Ona, but an involuntary remem- 
brance of how those lazy eyes would open, stare peevishly 
and then shut again, stopped her on the threshold of her 
door ; and sitting down again upon the side of her bed, she 
waited, this time with opened eyes eagerly staring before her 


204 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


and quivering form that started at each and every sound that 
disturbed the silence of the great echoing house. At six 
o’clock she again rose ; he had just re-entered and this time 
he stopped at Ona’s room 


XIX. 


A DAY AT THE BANK. 


There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, 

Rough-hew them how we will.” —Hamlet. 


There are days when the whole world seems to smile 
upon one without stint or reservation. Bertram Sylvester 
wending his way to the bank on the morning following the 
reception, was a cheerful sight to behold. Youth, health, 
hope spake in every lineament of his face and brightened 
every glance of his wide-awake eye. His new life was pleas- 
ant to him.. Bach, Beethoven and Chopin were scarcely re- 
gretted now by the ambitious assistant cashier of the Madi- 
son Bank, with a friend in each of its directors and a some- 
thing more than that in the popular president himself. 
Besides he had developed a talent for the business and was 
in the confidence of the cashier, a somewhat sickly man who 
more than once had found himself compelled to rely upon 
the rapidly maturing judgment of his young associate, in 
matters oftentimes of the utmost importance. The manner 
in which Bertram found himself able to respond to these 
various calls, convinced him that he had been correct in his 
opinion of his own nature, when he informed his uncle that 
music was his pleasure rather than his necessity. 


206 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


Entering the building by way of Pearl Street, he was 
about to open the door leading into the bank proper, when 
he heard a little piping voice at his side, and turning, con- 
fronted the janitor’s baby daughter. She was a sweet and 
interesting child, and with his usual good nature Bertram at 
once stopped to give her a kiss. 

“ I likes you,” prattled she as he put her down again 
after lifting her up high over his head, “ but I likes de ode* 
one best.” 

“ I hope the other one duly appreciates your preference,” 
laughed he, and was again on the point of entering the bank 
when he felt or thought he felt a hand laid on his arm. It 
was the janitor himself this time, a worthy man, greatly 
trusted in the bank, but possessed of such an extraordinary 
peculiarity in the way of a pair of protruding eyes, that his 
appearance was always attended by a shock. 

“ Well, Hopgood, what is it ? ” cried Bertram, in his 
cheery tone. 

The janitor drew back and mercifully shifted his gaze 
from the young man’s face. “ Nothing sir ; did I stop you ? 
Beg pardon,” he continued, half stammering, “ I’m dreadful 
awkward sometimes.” And with a nod he sidled off towards 
his little one whom he confusedly took up in his arms. 

Now Bertram was sure the man had touched him and 
that, too, with a very eager hand, but being late that morn- 
ing and consequently in somewhat of a hurry, he did not 
stop to pursue the matter. Hastening into the Bank, he 
assisted the teller in opening the safe, tha<- being his especial 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


20; 


duty, and was taking out such papers as he himself required, 
when he was surprised to catch another sight of those same 
extraordinary organs of which I have just spoken, peering 
upon him from the door by which he had previously entered. 
They vanished as soon as he encountered them, but more 
than once during the morning he perceived them looking 
upon him from various quarters of the bank, till he felt 
himself growing seriously annoyed, and sending for the man, 
asked him what he meant by this unusual surveillance. The 
janitor seemed troubled, flushed painfully and fixed his 
eyes in manifest anxiety on the cashier who, engaged in some 
search of his own, was just handling over the tin boxes that 
lined the vault before them. Not till he had seen him shove 
them back into their place and leave the spot, did he venture 
upon his reply. “ I’m sure, sir, I’m very sorry if I have an- 
noyed you, but do you think Mr. Sylvester will be down at 
the usual hour ? ” 

“ I know of no reason why he should not,” returned 
Bertram. 

“ I have something to say to him when he comes in,” 
stammered the man, evidently taken aback by Bertram’s look 
of surprise. “ Will you be kind enough to ring the bell the 
first moment he seems to be at leisure ? I dont’t know as it 
is a matter of any importance but — ” He stopped, evidently 
putting a curb upon himself. “ Can I rely on you, sir ? ” 

“ Yes, certainly, I will tell my uncle when he comes in 
that you want to speak to him. He will doubtless send foi 
you at once.” 


208 


THE SWORD OR DAMOCLES , . 


The man looked embarrassed. “ Excuse me, sir, but 
that’s just what I’d rather you wouldn’t do. Mr. Sylvester 
is always very busy and he might think I wished to ann^y 
him about some matters of my own, sir, as indeed I have not 
been above doing at odd times. If you would ring when he 
comes in, that is all I ask.” 

Bertram thought this a strange request, but seeing the 
man so anxious, gave the required promise, and the janitor 
hurried off. “ Curious ! ” muttered Bertram. “Can any- 
thing be wrong ? ” And he glanced about him with some 
curiosity as he went to his desk. But every one was at his 
post as usual and the countenances of all were equally undis- 
turbed. 

It was a busy morning and in the rush of various matters 
Bertram forgot the entire occurrence. But it was presently 
recalled to him by hearing some one remark, “ Mr. Sylvester 
is late to-day,” and looking up from some papers he was 
considering, he found it was a full hour after the time at 
which his uncle was in the habit of appearing. Just then he 
caught still another sight of the protruding eyes of Hopgood 
staring in upon him from the half-opened door at the end ol 
the bank. 

“ The fellow’s getting impatient,” thought he, and ex- 
perienced a vague feeling of uneasiness. 

Another half hour passed. “ What can have detained 
Mr. Sylvester ? ” cried Mr. Wheelock the cashier, hastily ap- 
proaching Bertram. 

“ There is to be an important meeting of the Directors 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


209 


to* day, and some of the gentlemen are alieady coming in 
Mr. Syl\ ester is not accustomed to keep us waiting." 

“ I don’t know, I am sure," returned Bertram, remember- 
ing with an accession of uneasiness, the abruptness with 
which his uncle had left the entertainment the evening be- 
fore. 

“ Shall I telegraph to the house ? ’’ 

“ No, that is not necessary. Besides Folger says he 
passed him on Broadway this morning." 

“ Going down street with a valise in his hand," that gen- 
tlemen quietly put in. Folger was the teller. “ He was look- 
ing very pale and didn’t see me when I nodded." 

“ What time was that ? ’’ asked Bertram. 

“ About twelve ; when I went out to lunch." 

A quick gasp sounded at their side, followed by a hurried 
cough. Turning, Bertram encountered for the fifth time the 
eyes of Hopgood. He had entered unperceived by the small 
door that separated the inner inclosure from the outer, and 
was now standing very close to them, eying with side-long 
looks the safe at their back, the faces of the gentleman 
speaking, yes, and even the countenances of the clerks, as 
they bent busily over their books. 

“ Did you ring, sir ? ’’ asked he, catching Bertram’s look 
of displeasure. 

“ No." 

The man seemed to feel the rebuke implied in this short 
response, and ambled softly away. But in another moment 
he was stopped by Bertram. 


210 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ What is the matter with you to-day, Hopgood ? Can 
you have anything of real importance on your mind ; any 
thing connected with my uncle ? ” 

The janitor started, and looked almost frightened. " Be 
careful what you say,” whispered he ; then with a keen look 
at Mr. Wheelock just then on the point of entering the direc- 
tors’ room, he was turning to escape by the little door just 
mentioned, when it opened and Mr. Stuyvesant came in. 
With a look almost of terror the janitor recoiled, throwing 
himself as it were between the latter and the door of the 
safe ; but recovering himself, surveyed the keen quiet visage 
of the veteran banker with a rolling of his great eyes 
absolutely painful to behold. Mr. Stuyvesant, who was 
somewhat absorbed in thought, did not appear to notice 
the agitation he had caused, and with just a hurried nod 
followed Mr. Wheelock into the Directors’ room. In- 
stantly the janitor drew himself up with an air of relief, and 
shortly glancing at the clock which lacked a few minutes 
yet of the time fixed for the meeting, slided hastily away 
from Bertram’s detaining hand, and disappeared in the 
crowd without. In another moment Bertram saw him 
standing at the outer door, looking anxiously up and down 
the street. 

“ Something is wrong,” murmured Bertram. “ What V' 
And for a moment he felt half tempted to return Mr. Stuy 
vesant’s friendly bow with a few words expressive of his un- 
easiness, but the emphasis with which Hopgood had mur- 
mured the words, “ Be careful what you say,” unconsciously 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


21 1 


deterred him, and concealing his nervousness as best he 
might, he entered the Directors’ office. 

It was now time for the meeting to open, and the gentle* 
men were all seated around the low green baize table that 
occupied the centre of the room. Impatience was written 
on all their countenances. Mr. Stuyvesant especially was 
looking at the heavy gold watch in his hand, with a frown 
on his deeply wrinkled brow that did not add to its expres- 
sion of benevolence. The empty seat at the head of the 
table stared upon Bertram uncompromisingly. 

“ My wife gives a reception to-day,” ventured one gen- 
tleman to his neighbor. 

“And I have an engagement at five that won’t bear post- 
ponement.” 

“ Sylvester has always been on hand before.” 

“We can’t proceed without him,” was the reply. 

Mr. Wheelock looked thoughtful. 

With a nod of his head towards such gentlemen as met 
his eye, Bertram hastened to a little cupboard devoted to 
the use of himself and uncle. Opening it, he looked within, 
took down a coat he saw hanging before him, and uncon- 
sciously uttered an exclamation. It was a dress-coat such 
as had been worn by Mr. Sylvester the evening before. 

“ What does this mean ! My uncle has been here ! ” 
were the words that sprang to his lips ; but he subdued his 
impulse to speak, and hastily hanging up the coat, relocked 
the door. Proceeding at once to the outer room, he asked 
two or three of the clerks if they were sure Mr. Sylvester had 


212 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


not been in during the day. But they all returned an un- 
equivocal “ no,” and that too with a certain stare of surprise 
that at once convinced him he was betraying his agitation 
too plainly. 

“ I will telegraph whether Wheelock considers it neces- 
sary or not,” thought he, and was moving to summon a mes- 
senger boy when he caught sight of Hopgood slowly making 
his way in from the street. He was very pale and walked 
with his eyes fixed on the ground, ominously shaking his 
great head in a way that bespoke an inner struggle of no or- 
dinary nature. Bertram at once sauntered out to meet him. 

“ Hopgood,” said he, “ your evident anxiety is infectious. 
What has happened to make my uncle’s detention a matter 
of such apparent import ? If you do not wish to confide in 
me, his nephew almost his son, speak to Mr. Wheelock or to 
one of the directors, but dont keep anything to yourself 
which concerns 1 is welfare or — What are you looking at ? ” 

The man was gazing as if fascinated at the keys in Ber- 
tram’s hand. 

“ Nothing sir, nothing. You must not detain me ; I have 
nothing to say. I will wait ten minutes,” he mustered to 
himself, glancing again at the clock. Suddenly he saw the 
various directors come filing out of the inner room, and 
darted for the second time from Bertram’s detaining hand. 

“ I hope nothing has happened to Mr. Sylvester,” ex- 
claimed one gentleman to another as they filed by. 

“ If he were given to a loose ends* sort of business if 
would be another thing.” 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


213 


“ He looked exceedingly well at the reception last night,” 
exclaimed another ; “but in these days — ” 

Suddenly there was a hush. A telegraph boy had just 
entered the door and was asking for Mr. Bertram Sylvester. 

“ Here I am,” said Bertram, hastily taking the envelope 
presented him. Slightly turning his back, he opened it. 
Instantly his face grew white as chalk. 

“ Gentlemen,” said he, “ you will have to excuse my 
uncle to-day ; a great misfortune has occurred to him.” Then 
with a slow and horror-stricken movement, he looked about 
him and exclaimed, “ Mrs. Sylvester is dead .” 

A confused murmur at once arose, followed by a hurried 
rush ; but of all the faces that flocked out of the bank, none 
wore such a look of blank and helpless astonishment as that 
of Hopgood the janitor, as with bulging eyes and nervously 
working hands, he slowly wended his way to the foot of the 
stairs and there sat down gazing into vacancy. 


XX. 


THE DREGS IN THE CUP. 

*' O eloquent, just and mightie death ! whom none could advise, thou hast pff 
■umded ; what none hath dared, thou hast done ; and whom all the world hath flat 
tered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised : thou hast drawn togethei 
all the farre stretched greatnesses ; all the pride, crueltie and ambition of man and 
covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hicjacet .” 

—Sir Walter Raleigh. 

Bertram’s hurried ring at his uncle’s door was answered 
by Samuel the butler. 

“ What is this I hear ? ” cried the young man, entering 
with considerable agitation, “ Mrs. Sylvester dead ? ” 

“Yes sir,” returned the old and trusty servant, with 
something like a sob in his voice. “ She went out riding 
this morning behind a pair of borrowed horses — and being 
unused to Michael’s way of driving, they ran away and she 
was thrown from the carriage and instantly killed.” 

“And Miss Fairchild?” 

“She didn’t go with her. Mrs. Sylvester was alone.” 

“ Horrible, horrible ! Where is my uncle, can I see 
him ? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir,” the man returned with a strange look 
of anxiety. “ Mr. Sylvester is feeling very bad, sir. He has 
shut himself up in his room and none of his servants dare 
disturb him, sir.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 2 I 5 

‘ I should, however, like him to know I am here. Id 
what room shall I find him ? ” 

“ In the little one, sir, at the top of the house. It has a 
curious lock on the door ; you will know it by that.” 

“ Very well. Please be in the hall when I come down • 
I may want to give you some orders.” 

The old servant bowed and Bertram hastened with hush- 
ed steps to ascend the stairs. At the first platform he 
paused. What is there in a house of death, of sudden death 
especially, that draws a veil of spectral unreality over each 
familiar object ! Behind that door now inexorably closed 
before him, lay without doubt the shrouded form of her who 
but a few short hours before, had dazzled the eyes of men 
and made envious the hearts of women with her imposing 
beauty ! No such quiet then reigned over the spot filled by 
her presence. As the vision of a dream returns, he saw her 
again in all her splendor. Never a brow in all the great hall 
shone more brightly beneath its sparkling diamonds ; never a 
lip in the whole vast throng curled with more self-compla- 
cent pride, or melted into a more alluring smile, than that of 
her who now lay here, a marble image beneath the eye of 
day It was as if a flowery field had split beneath the danc- 
ing foot of some laughing siren. One moment your gaze is 
upon the swaying voluptuous form, the half-shut beguiling 
eye, the white out-reaching arms upon whose satin surface a 
thousand loves seem perching ; the next you stare horror- 
stricken upon the closing jaws of an awful pit, with the flash 
of something bright in your eyes, and the sense of a hideous 


2l6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


noiseless rush in which earth and heaven appear to join, 
sink and. be swallowed ! Bertram felt his heart grow sick. 
Moving on, he passed the bronze image of Luxury lying half 
asleep on its bed of crumpled roses. Hideous mockery ! 
What has luxury to do with death ? She who was luxury 
itself has vanished from these halls. Shall the mute bronze 
go on smiling over its wine cup while she who was its proto- 
type is carried by without a smile on the lips once so ver- 
meil with pride and tropical languors ! 

Arrived at the top of the house, Bertram knocked at the 
door with the strange lock, and uttering his own name, asked 
if there was anything he could do here or elsewhere to show 
his sympathy and desire to be of use in this great and sud- 
den bereavemeat. There was no immediate reply and he 
began to fear he would be obliged to retire without seeing 
his uncle, when the door was slowly opened and Mr. Sylves- 
ter came out. Instantly Bertram understood the anxiety of 
the servant. Not only did Mr. Sylvester’s countenance 
exhibit the usual traces of grief and horror incident to a 
sudden and awful calamity, but there were visible upon 
it the tokens of another and still more unfathomable cmo< 
tion, a wild and paralyzed look that altered the very con- 
tour of his features, and made his face almost like that of a 
stranger. 

“Uncle, what is it?” sprang involuntarily to his lips, 
“ But Mr. Sylvester betraying by a sudden backward move- 
ment an instinctive desire to escape scrutiny, he bethought 
himself, and with hasty utterance offered seme words of 


LIFE AND DEATH . 


217 


consolation that sounded strangely hollow and superficial 
in that dim and silent corridor. “ Is there nothing I can 
do for you ? ” he finally asked. 

“ Everything is being done,” exclaimed his uncle in a 
strained and altered voice ; “ Robert is here.” And a si 
lence fell over the hall, that Bertram dared not break. 

“ I have help for everything but — ” He did not say 
what, it seemed as if something rose up in his throat that 
choked him. 

“ Bertram,” said he at last in a more natural tone, “ come 
with me.” 

He led him into an adjoining room and shut the door. 
It was a room from which the sunshine had not been exclu- 
ded and it seemed as if they could both breathe more easily. 

“ Sit down,” said his uncle, pointing to a chair. The 
young man did so, but Mr. Sylvester remained standing. 
Then without preamble, “ Have you seen her ? ” 

There was no grief in the question, only a quiet respect. 
Death clothes the most volatile with a garment of awe. 
Bertram slowly shook his head. “ No,” said he, “ I came at 
once up stairs.” 

“ There is no mark on her white body, save the least 
little discolored dent here,” continued his uncle, pointing 
calmly to his temple. “ She had one moment of fear while 
the horses ran, and then — ” He gave a quick shudder and 
advancing towards Bertram, laid his hand on his nephew‘s 
shoulder in such a way as to prevent him from turning his 
head. “ Bertram,” said he, “ I have no son. If I were to 


218 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


call upon you to perform a son’s work for me ; to obey and 
ask no questions, would you comply ? ” 

“ Can you ask ? ” sprang from the young man’s lips ; “ you 
know that you have only to command for me to be proud 
to obey. Anything you can require will find me ready.” 

The hand on his shoulder weighed heavier. “ It seems 
a strange time to talk about business, Bertram, but necessity 
knows no law. There is a matter in which you can afford 
me great assistance if you will undertake to do immediately 
what I ask.” 

“ Can you doubt — ” 

“ Hush, it is this. On this paper you will find a name ; 
below it a number of addresses. They are all of places 
down town and some of them not very reputable I fear. 
What I desire is for you to seek out the man whose name 
you here see, going to these very places after him, beginning 
with the first, and continuing down the list until you find 
him. When you come upon him, he will ask you for a card. 
Give him one on which you will scrawl before his eyes, a 
circle, so. It is a token which he should instantly under- 
stand. If he does, address him with freedom and tell him 
that your employer — you need make use of no names — re- 
demands the papers made over to him this morning. If he 
manifests surprise or is seen to hesitate, tell him your order* 
are imperative. If he declares ruin will follow, inform him 
that you are not to be frightened by words ; that your em* 
ployer is as fully aware of the position of affairs as he 
Whatever he says, bring the papers.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


219 


Bertram nodded his head and endeavored to rise, but his 
uncle’s hand rested upon him too heavily. 

“ He is a small man ; you need have no dread of him 
physically. The sooner you find him and acquit yourself of 
your task, the better I shall be pleased.” And then the 
hand lifted. 

On his way down stairs Bertram encountered Paula. 
She was standing in the hall and accosted him with a very 
trembling tone in her voice. All her questions were in 
regard to Mr. Sylvester. 

“ Have you seen him ? ” she asked. “ Does he speak — say 
anything ? No one has heard him utter a word since he 
came in from down town and saw her lying there.” 

“Yes, certainly ; he spoke to me ; he has been giving me 
some commissions to perform. I am on my way now to 
attend to them.” 

She drew a deep breath. “ O ! ” she cried, “ would that 
he had a son, a daughter, a child, some one ! ” 

This exclamation following what had taken place above 
struck Bertram forcibly. “ He has a son in me, Paula. 
Love as well as duty binds me to him. All that a child 
could do will I perform with pleasure. You can trust me 
for that.” 

She threw him a glance of searching inquiry. “ His 
need is greater than it seems,” whispered she. “He was 
deeply troubled before this terrible accident occurred. I 
am afraid the arrow is poisoned that has made this dreadful 
wound. I cannot explain myself.” she went on hurriedly, 


220 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ but if you indeed regard him as a father, be ready with 
any comfort, any help, that affection can bestow, or his 
necessities require. Let me feel that he has near him some 
stay that will not yield to pressure.” 

There was so much passion in this appeal that Bertram 
involuntarily bowed his head. “ He has two friends, said 
he, “and here is my hand that I will never forsake him.” 

“ I do not need to offer mine,” she returned, “ He is 
great and good enough to do without my assistance.” But 
nevertheless she gave her hand to Bertram and with a glow 
of her lip and eye that made her beauty, supreme at all times 
something almost supernatural in its character. 

“ I dared not tell him,” she whispered to herself as the 
front door closed with the dull slow thud proper to a house 
of mourning. “ I dare not tell any one, but — ” 

What lay beyond that but ? 

When Mr. Sylvester came in at six o’clock in the morn- 
ing, Paula had risen from the bed on which she had been 
sitting, but not to make preparation for rest, for she could 
not rest. The vague shadow of some surrounding evil or 
threatened catastrophe was upon her, and though she forced 
herself to change her dress for a warmer and more suitable 
one, she did not otherwise break her vigil, though the neces- 
sity for it seemed to be at an end. It was a midwintei 
morning and the sun had not yet -risen, so being chilly as 
well as restless, she began to pace the floor, stopping now 
and then to glance out of the window, in the hopes of detect- 
ing some signs of awakening day in the blank and solemn 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


221 


east. Suddenly as she was thus consulting the horizon, a 
light flashed up from below, and looking down upon the face 
of the extension that ran along at right angles to her win- 
dow, she perceived that the shades were up in Mrs. Sylves- 
ter’s boudoir. They had doubtless been left so the evening 
before, and Mr. Sylvester upon turning up the gas had failed 
to observe the fact. Instantly she felt her heart stand still, 
for the house being wide and the extension narrow, all that 
went on in that boudoir, or at least in that portion of it 
which Mr. Sylvester at present occupied, was easily observa- 
ble from the window at which she stood ; and that some- 
thing was going on of a serious and important nature, was 
sufficiently evident from the expression of Mr. Sylvester’s 
countenance. He was standing with his face bent towards 
some one seated out of sight, his wife undoubtedly, though 
what could have called her from her dreams — and was busily 
engaged in talking. The subject whatever it was, absorbed 
him completely. If Paula had allowed herself the thought, 
she would have described him as pleading and that with no 
ordinary vehemence. But suddenly while she gazed half 
fascinated and but little realizing what she was doing, he 
started back and a fierce change swept over his face, a cer- 
tain incredulity, that presently gave way to a glance of 
horror and repugnance, which the quick action of his out- 
thrown palm sufficiently emphasized. He was pushing 
something from him, but what ? A suggestion or a remem- 
brance ? It wasimpossible to determine. 

The countenance of Mrs. Sylvester who that moment ap- 


222 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


peared in sight sailing across the floor in her azure wrappei 
offered but little assistance in the way of explanation. Im- 
movable under most circumstances, it was simply at this 
juncture a trifle more calm and cold than usual, presenting 
to Paula’s mind the thought of a white and icy barrier, 
against which the most glowing of arrows must fall chilled 
and powerless. 

“ O for a woman’s soul to inform that breast if but for a 
moment ! ” cried Paula, lost in the passion of this scene, 
while so little understanding its import. When as if in 
mockery to this invocation, the haughty form upon which 
she was gazing started rigidly erect, while the lip acquired a 
scorn and the eye a menace that betrayed the serpent ever 
in hiding under this white rose. 

Paula could look no longer. This last revelation had 
awakened her to the fact that she was gazing upon a scene 
sacred to the husband and wife engaged in it. With a sense 
of shame she rushed to the bed and threw herself upon it, 
but the vision of what she had beheld would not leave her 
so easily. Like letters of fire upon a black ground, the pan- 
orama of looks and gestures to which she had just been wit- 
ness, floated before her mind’s eye, awakening a train of 
thought so intense that she did not know which was worse, 
to be there in the awful dawn dreaming over this episode of 
the night, or to rise and face again the reality. The fascina- 
tion which all forbidden sights insensibly exert over the 
minds of the best of us, finally prevailed, and she slowly 
crept to the window to catch a parting glimpse of Mr. Syl- 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


223 


vester’s tall form hurrying blindly from the boudoir followed 
by his wife’s cold glance. The next minute the exposed 
condition of the room seemed to catch that lady’s attention, 
and with an anxious look into the dull gray morn, Mrs. SyV 
vester drew down the shades, and the episode was over. 

Or so Paula thought ; but when she was returning up 
stairs after her solitary breakfast — Mrs. Sylvester was too 
tired and Mr. Sylvester too much engaged to eat, as the at- 
tentive Samuel informed her — the door of Ona’s room swung 
ajar, and she distinctly heard her give utterance to the fol 
lowing exclamation : 

“ What ! give up this elegant home, my horses and car- 
riage, the friends I have had such difficulty in obtaining, and 
the position which I was born to adorn ? I had rathei die ! ” 
And Paula feeling as if she had received the key to the 
enigma of the last night’s unaccountable manifestations was 
about to rush away to her own apartment, when the door 
swayed open again and she heard his voice respond w ; th 
hard and bitter emphasis, 

“ And it might be better that you should. But since you 
will probably live, let it be according to your mind. I have 
not the courage — ” 

There the door swung to. 

An hour from that Mr. Sylvester left the house with a 
small valise in his hand, and Mrs. Sylvester dressed in her 
showiest costume, entered her carriage for an early shopping 
excursion. 

And so when Paula whispered to herself, “I did not dare 


224 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


to tell him ; I did not dare to tell any one, but — ” she thought 
of those terrible words, “ Die? It might be better, perhaps, 
that you should ! ” and then remembered the ghastly look of 
immeasurable horror with which a few hours later, he stag- 
gered away from that awful burden, whose rigid lines would 
never again melt into mocking curves, and to whom the 
morning’s wide soaring hopes, high reaching ambitions and 
boundless luxuries were now no more than the shadows of a 
vanished world ; life, love, longing, with all their demands, 
having dwindled to a noisome rest between four close 
planks, with darkness for its present portion and beyond 
—what > 


XXL 


DEPARTURE. 

“ Forever and forever, farewell Cassius. 

If we do meet again, why we shall smile ; 

If not, why then, this parting was well made.” 

—Jutius Cm&aw. 

Samuel had received his orders to admit Mr. Bertram 
Sylvester to his uncle’s room, at whatever hour of the day or 
night he chose to make his appearance. But evening wore 
away and finally the night, before his well-known face was 
seen at the door. Proceeding at once to the apartment oc- 
cupied by Mr. Sylvester, he anxiously knocked. The door 
was opened immediately. 

“ Ah, Bertram, I have been expecting you all night.’ 
And from the haggard appearance of both men, it was evi- 
dent that neither of them had slept. 

“ I have sat down but twice since I left you, and then 
only in conveyances. I have been obliged to go to Brooklyn, 
to—” 

“ But you have found him ? ” 

“Yes, I found him.” 

His uncle glanced inquiringly at his hands; they were 
empty. 

- I shall have to sit down,” said Bertram ; his brow was 


226 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


very gloomy, his words came hesitatingly. “ I had rathei 
have knocked my head against the wall, than have disap- 
pointed you,” he murmured after a moment’s pause. But 
when I did find him, it was too late.” 

“ Too late ! ” The tone in which this simple phrase wa 
uttered was indescribable. Bertram slowly nodded his head 

“ He had already disposed of all the papers, and favora- 
bly,” he said. 

“ But—” 

“ And not only that,” pursued Bertram. “ He had is- 
sued orders by telegraph, that it was impossible to counter- 
mand. It was at the Forty Second Street depot I found him 
at last. He was just on the point of starting for the west.” 

“ And has he gone ? ” 

“ Yes sir.” 

Mr. Sylvester walked slowly to the window. It was rain- 
ng drearily without, but he did not notice the falling drops 
or raise his eyes to the leaden skies. 

“ Did you meet any one ? ” he asked at length. “ Any 
one that you know, I mean, or who knows you ? ” 

“ No one but Mr. Stuyvesant.” 

“ Mr. Stuyvesant ! ” 

“Yes sir,” returned Bertram, dropping his eyes before 
his uncle’s astonished glance. “ I was coming out of a 
house in Broad Street when he passed by and saw me, or at 
least I believed he saw me. There is no mistaking him, sir, 
for any one else ; besides it is a custom of his I am told, to 
saunter through the down town streets after the warehouses 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


227 


are all closed for the night. He enjoys the quiet I suppose, 
finds food for reflection in the sleeping aspect of our great 
city.” There was gloom in Bertram’s tone ; his uncle looked 
at him curiously. 

“What house was it from which you were coming when 
he passed you ? ” 

“A building where Tueller and Co. do business, shady 
operators in paper, as you know.” 

“ And you believed he recognized you ? ” 

“ I cannot be sure, sir. It was dark, but I thought 1 
saw him look at me and give a slight start.” 

Ah, how desolate sounds the drip, drip of a ceaseless rain, 
when conversation languishes and the ear has time to listen ! 

“ I will explain to Mr. Stuyvesant when I see him, that 
you were in search of a man with whom I had pressing busi- 
ness,” observed Mr. Sylvester at last. 

“ No,” murmured Bertram with effort, “ it might empha- 
size the occurrence in his mind ; let the matter drop where 
it is.” 

There was another silence, during which the drip of the 
rain on the window-ledge struck on the young man’s ears like 
the premonitory thud of falling earth upon a coffin-lid. At 
length his uncle turned and advanced rapidly towards him. 

“ Bertram,” said he, “ you have done me a favor for 
which I thank you. What you have learned in the course of 
its accomplishment I cannot tell. Enough perhaps to make 
you understand why I warned you from the dangerous path 
of speculation, and set your feet in a way that if adhered to 


228 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


with steadfast purpose, ought to lead you at last to a safe 
and honorable prosperity. Now — No, Bertram,” he bitterly 
interrupted himself as the other opened his lips, “ I am in 
need of no especial commiseration, my affairs seem bound to 
prosper whether I will or not — now I have one more com- 
mission to give you. Miss Fairchild — ” his voice quavered 
and he leaned heavily on the chair near which he was stand- 
ing. “ Have you seen her, Bertram ? Is the poor child 
quite prostrated? Has this frightful occurrence made her 
ill, or does she bear up with fortitude under the shock of 
this sudden calamity ?” 

“ She is not ill, but her suffering is undoubted. If you 
could see her and say a few words to relieve her anxiety in 
regard to yourself, I think it would greatly comfort her. 
Her main thought seems to be for you, sir.” 

Mr. Sylvester frowned, raised his hand with a repelling 
gesture, and hastily opened his lips. Bertram thought he 
was about to utter some passionate phrase. But instead of 
that he merely remarked, “ I am sorry I cannot see her but 
it is quite impossible. You must stand between me and this 
poor child, Bertram. Tell her I send her my love ; tell her 
that I am quite well ; anything to solace her and make these 
dark days less dreary. If she wants a friend with her, let a 
messenger be sent for whomever she desires. I place no re- 
strictions upon anything you choose to do for her comfort 
or happiness, but let me be spared the sight of any other 
face than yours until this is all over. After the funeral — it 
may sound ungracious, but I am far from feeling so — I shall 


LIFE AND DEATH. 22g 

wish to be left alone for awhile. If she can be made tc 
understand this — ” 

“ I think her instincts, sir, have already led her to divine 
your wishes. If I am not mistaken, she is even now making 
preparations to return to her relatives.” 

Mr. Sylvester gave a start. “ What, so soon ! ” he mur- 
mured, and the sadness of his tone smote Bertram to the 
heart. But in another moment he recovered himself and 
shortly exclaimed, “ Well ! well ! that is as it should be. 
You will watch over her Bertram, and see that she is kindly 
cared for. It would be a grief to me to have her go away 
with any more than the necessary regret at losing one who 
was always kind to her.” 

“ I will look after her as after a sister,” returned Bertram 
“ She shall miss no attention which I can supply.” 

With a look Mr. Sylvester expressed his thanks. Then 
while Bertram again attempted to speak, he gave him a cor- 
dial pressure of the hand, and withdrew once more to his 
favorite spot. 

And the rain beat, beat, and it sounded more and more 
like the droppings of earth upon a nailed down coffin-lid. 

The funeral was a large one. The largest some said that 
had ever been seen in that quarter of the city. If Mrs. Syl- 
vester’s position had not been what it was, the sudden and 
awful nature of her death, would have been sufficient to draw 
together a large crowd. Among those who thus endeavored 
to show their respect was Miss Stuyvesant. 


230 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ I could not join you here in your pleasures,” she whis- 
pered to Paula in the short interview they had upstairs, pre- 
paratory to the services, “ but I cannot keep away in the 
dark houis!” And from her look and the clasp of her 
hand, Paula gained fresh courage to endure the slow pressure 
of anxiety and grief with which she was secretly burdened. 

Moreover she had the pleasure of introducing her be- 
loved friend to Mr. Bertram Sylvester, a pleasure which she 
had long promised herself whenever the opportunity should 
arrive, as Miss Stuyvesant was somewhat of an enthusiast as 
regards music. She did not notice particularly then, but 
she remembered afterwards, with what a blushing cheek and 
beautiful glance the dainty young girl received his bow, and 
responded to his few respectful words of pleasure at meet- 
ing the daughter of a man whom he had learned to regard 
with so much respect. 

Mr. Sylvester was in a room by himself. The few 
glimpses obtained of him by his friends, convinced them all, 
that this trouble touched him more deeply than those who 
knew his wife intimately could have supposed. Yet he was 
calm, and already wore that fixed look of rigidity which was 
henceforth to distinguish the expression of his fine and 
noble features. 

In the ride to Greenwood he spoke little. Paula who sat 
in the carriage with him did not receive a word, though now 
and then his eye 'wandered towards her with an expression 
that drove the blood to her heart, and made the whole day 
one awful memory of incomprehensible agony and dim but 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


231 


terrible forebodings. The ways of the human soul, in its 
crises of grief or remorse were so new to her. She had 
pissed her life beside rippling streams and in peaceful mea- 
dows, and now all at once, with shadow on shadow, the dark 
pictures of life settled down before her, and she could not 
walk without stumbling upon jagged rocks, deep yawning 
chasms and caves of impenetrable gloom. 

The sight of the grave appalled her. To lay in such a 
bed as that, the fair and delicate head that had often found 
the downy pillows of its azure couch too hard for its lan- 
guid pressure. To hide in such a dismal, deep, dark gap, a 
form so white and but a little while before, so imposing in 
its splendor and so commanding in its requirements. The 
thought of heaven brought no comfort. The beauty they 
had known lay here ; soulless, inert, rigid and responseless, 
but here. It was gifted with no wings with which to rise. 
It owned no attachment to higher spheres. Death had 
scattered the leaves of this white rose, but from all the 
boundless mirror of the outspread heavens, no recovered 
semblance of its perfected beauty, looked forth to solace 
Paula or assuage the misery of her glance into this gloomy 
pit. Ah, Ona, the social ladder reaches high, but it does not 
scale the regions where your poor soul could find comfort 
now. 

Bertram saw the white look on Paula’s face and silently 
offered his arm. But there are moments when no mortal 
help can aid us; instants when the soul stands as solitary in 
the universe, as the ship-wrecked mariner on a narrow strip 


232 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


of rock in a boundless sea. Life may touch, but eternity 
enfolds us ; we are single before God and as such must 
stand or fall. 

Upon their return to the house, Mr. Sylvester withdrew 
with a few intimate friends to his room, and Paula, lonely 
beyond expression, went to her own empty apartment to 
finish packing her trunks and answer such notes as had 
arrived during her absence. For attention from outsiders 
was only too obtrusive. Many whom she had never met 
save in the most formal intercourse, flooded her now with 
expressions of condolence, which if they had not been all 
upon one pattern and that the most conventional, might 
have afforded her some relief. Two or three of the notes 
were precious to her and these she stowed safely away, one 
contained a deliberate offer of marriage from a wealthy old 
stock-broker ; this she as deliberately burned after she had 
written a proper refusal. “ He thinks I have no home,” she 
murmured. 

And had she ? As she paced through the silent halls 
and elaborately furnished rooms on her way to her solitary 
dinner, she asked herself if- any place would ever seem like 
home after this. Not that she was infatuated by its ele- 
gance. The lofty walls might dwindle, the gorgeous furni- 
ture grow dim, the works of beauty disappear, the whole 
towering structure contract to the dimensions of a simple 
cottage or w r hat was worse, a seedy down-town house, if only 
the something would remain, the something that made return 
to Grotewell seem like the bending back of a towering stalk 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


2 33 


to the ground from which it had taken its root. “If? ” she 
cried — and stopped there, her heart swelling she knew not 
why. Then again, “ I thought I had found a father ! ” 
Then after a longer pause, a wild uncontrollable ; “ Bless ! 
bless ! bless ! ” which seemed to re-echo in the room long 
after her lingering step had left it. 

“Will he let me go without a word ? ” 

It was early morning and the time had come for Paula 3 
d parture. She was standing on the threshold of her room, 
h :r hands clasped, her eyes roving up and down the empty 
h tils. “ Will he let me go without a word ? ” 

“ O Miss Paula, what do you think ? ” cried Sarah, creep- 
ing slowly towards her from the spectral recesses of a dim 
corner. “ Jane says Mr. Sylvester was up all last night too. 
She heard him go down stairs about midnight and he went 
through all the rooms like a gliding spectre and into her 
room too! ” she fearfully whispered ; “and what he did there 
no one knows, but when he came out he locked the door, 
and this morning the cook heard him give orders to Samuel 
to have the trunks that were ready in Mrs. Sylvester’s room 
taken away. O Miss, do you think he can be going to give 
all those beautiful things to you ? ” 

Paula recoiled in horror. “ Sarah ! ’’ said she, and could 
say no more. The vision of that tall form gliding through 
the desolate house at midnight, bending over the soulless 
finery of his dead wife, perhaps stowing it away in boxes 
came with too powerful a suggestion to her mind. 


234 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Shu re, I thought you would be pleased,” murmured the 
girl and disappeared again into one of the dim recesses. 

“ Will he let me go without a word ? ” 

“ Miss Paula, Mr. Bertram Sylvester is waiting at the 
door in a carriage,” came in low respectful tones to her 
ears, and Samuel’s face full of regret appeared at the top o* 
the stairs. 

44 I am coming,” murmured the sad-hearted girl, and with 
a sob which she could not control, she took her last look of 
the pretty pink chamber in which she had dreamed so many 
dreams of youthful delight, and perhaps of youthful sorrow 
also, and slowly descended the stairs. Suddenly as she was 
passing a door on the second floor, she heard a low deep 
cry. 

“ Paula ! ” 

She stopped and her hand went to her heart, the reaction 
was so sudden. “ Yes,” she murmured, standing still with 
great heart-beats of joy, or was it pain ? 

The door slowly opened. “ Did you think I could let 
you go without a blessing, my Paula, my little one ! ” came 
in those deep heart-tones which always made her tears start. 
And Mr. Sylvester stepped out of the shadows beyond and 
stood in the shadows at her side. 

“ I did not know,” she murmured. “ I am so young, so 
feeble, such a mote in this great atmosphere of anguish. I 
longed to see you, to say good-bye, to thank you, but—” 
tears stopped her words ; this was a parting that rent hei 
tender heart. 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


235 


Mr. Sylvester watched her and his deep chest rose spas- 
modically. “ Paula,” said he, and there was a depth in his 
tone even she had never heard before, “ are these tears 
for me ? ” 

With a strong effort she controlled herself, looked up 
and faintly smiled. “ I am an orphan,” she gently mur- 
mured; “you have been kind and tender to me beyond 
words ; I have let myself love you as a father.” 

A spasm crossed his features, the hand he had lifted 
to lay upon her head fell at his side, he surveyed her with 
eyes whose despairing fondness told her that her love had 
been more than met by this desolate childless man. But 
he did not reply as seemed natural, “ Be to me then as 
a child. I can offer you no mother to guide or watch over 
you, but one parent is better than none. Henceforth you 
shall be known as my daughter.” Instead of that he shook 
his head mournfully, yearningly but irrevocably, and said, 
“ To be your father would have been a dear position to 
occupy. I have sometimes hoped that I might be so blessed 
as to call it mine, but that is all past now. Your father 1 
can 1 ever be. But I can bless you,” he murmured brokenly 
M not as I did that day in your aunt’s little cottage, but si- 
lently and from afar as God always meant you should be 
blessed by me. Good-bye, Paula.” 

Then all the deeps in her great nature broke up. She 
did not weep, but she looked at him with her large dark 
eyes and the cry in them smote his heart. With a struggle 
that blanched his face, Ire kept his arms at his side, but 


236 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


his lips worked in agony, and he slowly murmured, “ II 
after a time your heart loves me like this, and you are will- 
ing to bear shadow as well as sunshine with me, come back 
with your aunt and sit at my hearthstone, not as my child 
but as a dear and honored guest. I will try and be worth) 
— ” He paused, “ Will you come, Paula ? ” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ Not soon, not now,” he murmured, “ God will show you 
when.” 

And with nothing but a look, without having touched 
her or so much as brushed her garments with his, he retiied 
again into his room. 


XXII. 


HOPGOOD. 

“ Give it an understanding but no tongue. ' 

— Hamlbt. 

IIopgood was a man who could keep a secret, but who 
made so much ado in the process that he reminded one ol 
the placard found posted up somewhere out west which 
reads, “ A treasure of gold concealed here ; don’t dig ! ” Or 
so his wife used to say, and she ought to know, for she had 
lived with him five years, three of which he had spent in the 
detective service. 

“ If he would only trust the wife of his bosom with what- 
ever he’s got on his mind, instead of ambling around the 
building with his eyes rolling about like peas in a caldron of 
boiling water, one might manage to take some comfort in life, 
and not hurt anybody either. For two days now, ever since 
the wife of Mr. Sylvester died and Mr. Sylvester has been 
away from the bank, he’s acted just like a lunatic. Not that 
that has anything to do with his gettin up of nights and 
roamin down five pair of stairs to see if the watchman is 
up to his duty, or with his askin a dozen times a day if I 
remembers how Mr. Sylvester found him and me, well nigh 
starvin in Broad Street, and gave him the good word which 
got him into this place ? O no ! O no, of course not ! But 


238 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


something has, and while he persists in shutting out from his 
breast the woman he swore to love, honor, and cherish, that 
ttoman is not bound to bear the trials of life with patience. 
Every time he jumps out of his chair at the sound of Mr. 
Sylvester’s name, and some one is always mentionin’ it, I 
plumps me down on mine with an expression of my views 
regarding a kitchen stove that does all its drawin* when the 
oven’s empty.” 

So spake Mrs. Hopgood to her special crony and con- 
stant visitor, Mrs. Kirkshaw of Water Street, pursing up a 
mouth that might have been good-natured if she had ever 
given it an opportunity. But Mrs. Kirkshaw who passed for 
a gossip with her neighbors, was a philosopher in the retire- 
ment of the domestic circle and did not believe in the blow 
for blow system. 

“ La ! ” quoth she, with a smoothing out of her apron 
suggestive o f her employment as laundress, “ show a dog that 
you want his bone and you’ll never get it. Husbands is like 
that very stove you’ve been a slanderin of. Rattle on coal 
when the fire’s low and you put it out entirely ; but be a bit 
patient and drop it on piece by piece, coaxing-like, and 
you’ll have a hot stove afore you know it.” 

Which suggestion struck Mrs. Hopgood like a revelation, 
and for a day and night she resorted to the coaxing system ; 
the result of which was to send Mr. Hopgood out of the 
room to sit on the stairs in mortal terror, lest his good 
nature should get the better of his discretion. His little 
daughter, Constantia Maria — so named and so called from 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


239 


two grandmothers, equally exacting in their claims and 
equally impecunious as regards their resources — was his sole 
solace in this long vigil. Her pretty innocent prattle scarcely 
disturbed his meditation, while it soothed his nerves, and 
with no one by but this unsuspecting child, he could roll his 
great eyes to his heart’s content without fear of her descry- 
ing anything in them, but the love with which her own little 
heart abounded. 

On the morning after the funeral, however, Constantia 
Maria was restored to his wife’s arms on the plea that she 
did not seem quite well, and Hopgood went out and sat 
alone. In a few minutes, however, he returned, and 
ambling restlessly up and down the room, stopped be- 
fore his persistently smiling wife and said somewhat tremu- 
lously : 

“ If Mr. Sylvester takes a notion to come up and see 
Constantia Maria to-day, I hope you’ll take the opportunity 
to finish your ironing or whatever else it is you may have to 
do. I’ve noticed he seems a little shy with the child when 
you are around.” 

“ Shy with the child when I am around ! well I do de- 
clare ! ” exclaimed she, forgetting her late role in her some- 
what natural indignation. “ And what have I ever done to 
frighten Mr. Sylvester ? Nothing but putting on of a clean 
apron when he comes in and a dustin’ of the best chair for 
his use. It’s a trick of yours to get a chance of speakin 
to him alone, and I’ll not put up wjth it As if it wasn’t 
bad enough to have a kettle with the nozzle dangling, with- 


240 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


out living with a man who has a secret he won’t share with 
his own wife and the mother of his innocent babe.” 

With a start the worthy man stared at her till he grew 
red in the face, probably with the effort of keeping his eyes 
steady for so long a time. “ Who told you I had a secret ? * 
said he. 

“ Who told me ?” and then she laughed, though in a some- 
what hysterical way, and sat down in the middle of the floor 
and shook and shook again. “ Hear the man ! ” she cried. 
And she told him the story of the placard out west and then 
asked him, “ if he thought she didn’t remember how he used 
to act when he was a chasin’ up of a thief in the days when 
he was on the police force.” 

“ But,” he cried, quite as pale now as he had been florid 
the moment before, “ I’m not in the police force now and 
you are acting quite silly and I’ve no patience with you.” 
And he was making for the door, presumably to sit upon the 
stairs, when with a late repentance she seized him by the arm 
and said : 

“La now,” an expression she had caught from Mrs. Kirk- 
haw, “ I didn’t mean nothin’ by my talk. Come back, John ; 
Constantia Maria is not well, and if Mr. Sylvester comes up 
to see her, I’ll just slip out and leave you alone.” 

And upon that he told her she was a good wife and 
that if he had any secret from her it was only because he 
was a poor man. “ Honesty and prudence are all the treas- 
ures I possess to keep us three from starving. Shall I part 
with either of them just to satisfy your curiosity ? ” and be- 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


241 


ing a good woman at heart, she said “ no,” though she se- 
cretly concluded that prudence in his case involved trust in 
one’s wife first, and disbelief in the rest of the word after- 
ward ; and took her future resolutions accordingly. 

‘‘Well, Hopgood, you look anxious; do you want to 
speak to me ? ” 

The janitor eyed the changed and melancholy face of 
his patron, with an expression in which real sympathy for his 
trouble, struggled with the respectful awe which Mr. Sylves- 
ter’s presence was calculated to inspire. 

“ If you please,” said he, speaking very low, for more 01 
less of the bank employees were moving busily to and fro 
“ Constantia Maria is not well and she has been asking all 
day for the dear ?nan, as she insists upon calling you, sir, with 
many apologies for the freedom.” 

Mr. Sylvester smiled with a faint far-away look in his 
dark eye that made Hopgood stare uneasily out of the win- 
dow. “ Sick ! why then I must go up and see her,” he re* 
turned in a matter-of-fact way that proved his visits in that 
direction were of no uncommon occurrence. “ A moment 
more and I shall be at liberty.” 

Hopgood bowed and renewed his stare out of the win- 
dow, with an intensity happily spared from serious conse- 
quences to the passers-by, by the merciful celerity with 
which Mr. Sylvester procured his overcoat, put such papers 
in his pocket as he required, and joined him. 

“ Constantia Maria, here is Mr. Sylvester come to see you.’ 

It was a pleasure to observe how the little thing bright 


2^2 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


cned in her mother’s arms, where but a moment before she 
had lain quite pale and still, and slipping to the ground 
rushed up to meet the embrace of this stern and melancholy - 
laced man. “I am so glad you have come,” she cried 0"er 
md over again ; and her little arms went round his neck, 
and her soft cheek nestled against his, with a content that 
made the mother’s eyes sparkle with pleasure, as obedient tc 
her promise, she quietly left the room. 

And Mr. Sylvester? If any one had seen the abandon 
with which he yielded to her caresses and returned them, he 
would have understood why this child should have loved him 
with such extraordinary affection. He kissed her forehead, 
he kissed her cheek, and seemed never weary of smoothing 
down her bright and silky curls. She reminded him of Ger- 
aldine. She had the same blue eyes and caressing ways. 
From the day he had come upon his old friend Hopgood in 
a condition of necessity almost of want, this blue-eyed baby 
had held its small sceptre over his lonely heart, and unbe- 
known to the rest of the world, had solaced many a spare 
five minutes with her innocent prattle. The Hopgoods 
understood the cause of his predilection and were silent. Ii 
was the one thing Mrs. Hopgood never alluded to in her 
gossips with Mrs. Kirkshaw. But to-day the attentions of 
Mr. Sylvester to the little one seemed to make the janitor 
restless. He walked up and down the narrow room uneasily 
surveying the pair out of the corner of his great glassy eyes, 
till even Mr. Sylvester noticed his unusual manner and pul 
the child down, observing with a sigh, 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


243 


You think she is not well enough for any excitement ? " 

“ No sir, it is not that/' returned the other uneasily, with 
b hasty look around him. “ The fact is, I have something to 
tay to you, sir, about — a discovery — I made the other day." 
Ills words came very slowly, and he looked down with great 
embarrassment. 

Mr. Sylvester frowned slightly, and drew himself up to 
the full height of his very imposing figure. “ A discovery," 
repeated he, “ when ? ” 

“ The day you paid that early visit to the bank sir, the 
day Mrs. Sylvester died." 

The frown on Mr. Sylvester’s brow grew deeper. “ The 
day — " he began, and stopped. 

“ Excuse me, sir," exclaimed Hopgood with a burst. “ I 
ought not to have mentioned it, but you asked me when , and 
I — ’’ 

“ What was this discovery ? " inquired his superior, im- 
peratively. 

“ Nothing much,” murmured the other now all in a cold 
sweat. “ But I felt as if I ought to tell you. You have been 
my benefactor, sir, I can never forget what you have done 
for me and mine. If I saw death or bereavement between 
me and any favor I could do for you, sir, I would not hesi- 
tate to risk them. I am no talker, sir, but I am true and I 
am grateful." He stopped, choked, and his eyes rolled 
frightfully. Mr. Sylvester looked at him, grew a trifle pale, 
and put the little child away that was nestling up against his 
knee. 


244 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“You have not told me what you have discovered, 
said he. 

“ Well, sir, only this.” And he took from his pocket a 
small roll of paper which he unfolded and held out in his 
hand. It contained a gold tooth-pick somewhat bent and 
distorted. 

A flush dark and ominous crept over Mr. Sylvester's 
cheek. He glanced sternly at the trembling janitor, and 
uttered a short, “ Well ? ” 

“ I found it on the floor of the bank just after you went 
out the other morning,” the other pursued well-nigh inaudi- 
bly. “ It was lying near the safe. As it was not there when 
you went in, I took it for granted it was yours. Am I right, 
sir ?” 

The anxious tone in which this last question was uttered, 
the studied way in which the janitor kept his eyes upon the 
floor could not have been unnoticed by Mr. Sylvester, but 
he simply said, 

“ I have lost mine, that may very possibly be it.” 

The janitor held it towards him ; his eyes did not leave 
die floor. “ The responsibility of my position here is some 
times felt by me to be very heavy,” muttered the man in a 
low, unmodulated tone. It was his duty in those days pre- 
vious to the Manhattan Bank robbery, to open the vault in 
the morning, procure the books that were needed, and lay 
them about on the various desks in readiness for the clerks 
upon their arrival. He had also the charge of the boxes of 
the various customers of the bank who chose to entrust theii 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


245 


valuables to its safe keeping; which boxes were kept, together 
with the books, in that portion of the vault to which he had 
access, ‘ I should regret my comfortable situation here, but 
if it was necessary, I would go without a murmur, trusting 
that God would take care of my poor little lamb.” 

“ Ilopgood, what do you mean ? ” asked Mr. Sylvester 
icmewhat sternly. “ Who talks about dismissing you ? ” 

“ No one,” responded the other, turning aside to attend 
to some trivial matter. “ But if ever you think a younger or 
a fresher man would be preferable in my place, do not hesi- 
tate to make the change your own necessities or that of the 
Bank may seem to require.” 

Mr. Sylvester’s eye which was fixed upon the janitor’s 
face, slowly darkened. 

“ There is something underlying all this,” said he, “ what 
is it ? ” 

At once and as if he had taken his resolution, the janitor 
turned. “ I beg your pardon,” said he, “ I ought to have told 
you in the first place. When I opened the vaults as usual on 
the morning of which I speak, I found the boxes displaced; 
that was nothing if you had been to them, sir ; but what did 
alarm me and make me feel as if I had held my position too 
long was to find that one of them was unlocked.” 

Mr. Sylvester fell back a step. 

“ It was Mr. Stuyvesant’s box, sir, and I remember dis 
tinctly seeing him lock it the previous afternoon before put- 
ting it back on the shelf.” 

The arms which Mr. Sylvester had crossed upon hi> 


246 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

breast tightened spasmodically. “ And it has been in that 
condition ever since ? ” asked he. 

The janitor shook his head. “ No,” said he, taking hia 
little girl up in his arms, possibly to hide his countenance. 
“ As you did not come down again on that day, I took 
the liberty of locking it with a key of my own when I went 
to put away the books and shut the vault for the night.” 
And he quietly buried his face in his baby’s floating curls, 
who feeling his cheek against her own put up her hand and 
stroked it lovingly, crying in her caressing infantile tones, 

“ Poor papa ! poor tired papa.” 

Mr. Sylvester’s stern brow contracted painfully. The 
look with which his eye sought the sky without, would have 
made Paula’s young heart ache. Taking the child from het 
father’s clasp, he laid her on the bed. When he again con- 
fronted the janitor his face was like a mask. 

“ Hopgood,” said he, “ you are an honest man and a 
faithful one ; I appreciate your worth and have had confi- 
dence in your judgment. Whom have you told of this or 
currence beside myself? ” 

“ No one, sir.” 

“ Another question ; if Mr. Stuyvesant had required his 
box that day and had found it in the condition you describe, 
what would you have replied to his inquiries ? ” 

The janitor colored to the roots of his hair in an agony 
of shame Mr. Sylvester may or may not have appreciated, but 
replied with the straightforward earnestness of a man driven 
to bav, “ I should have been obliged to tell him the truth 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


247 


sir ; that whereas I had no personal knowledge of any one 
but myself, having been to the vaults since the evening be- 
fore, I was called upon early that morning to open the out- 
side door to you, sir, and that you came into the bank,” (he 
did not say looking very pale, agitated and unnatural, but 
he could not help remembering it) “and finding no one on 
duty but myself, — the watchman having gone up stairs to take 
his usual cup of coffee before going home for the day — you 
sent me out of the room on an errand, which delayed me 
some little time, and that when I came back I found you 
gone, and every thing as I had left it except that small pick 
lying on the floor.” 

The last words were nearly inaudible but they must have 
been heard by Mr. Sylvester, for immediately upon their 
utterance, the hand which unconsciously had kept its hold 
upon the tooth-pick, opened and with an uncontrollable ges- 
ture flung the miserable tell-tale into the stove near by. 

“ Hopgood,” said the stately gentleman, coming nearer 
and holding him with his eyes till the poor man turned pale 
and cold as a stone, “ has Mr. Stuyvesant had occasion to 
open his box since you locked it ? ” 

“ Yes sir, he called for it yesterday afternoon.” 

“ And who gave it to him ? ” 

“ I sir.” 

“ Did he appear to miss anything from it ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Do you believe, Hopgcod, that there was anything 
missing from it ? ” 


248 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


The janitor shrank like a man subjected to the torture. 
He fixed his glance on Mr. Sylvester’s face and his own 
gradually lightened. 

“ No sir ! ” said he at last, with a gasp that made the lit 
tie one lift her curly head from her pillow and shake it with 
a slow and wistful motion strange to see in a child of only 
two years. 

The proud man bowed, not with the severity however 
that might have been expected ; indeed his manner was 
strangely shadowed, and though his lip betrayed no uneasi- 
ness and his eye neither faltered or fell, there was a vague 
expression of awe upon his countenance, which it would 
take more than the simple understanding of the worthy but 
not over subtle man before him, to detect much less to com 
prehend. 

“You may be sure that Mr. Stuyvesant will never com- 
plain of any one having tampered with his effects while you 
are the guardian of the vaults,” exclaimed Mr. Sylvester in 
clear ringing tones. “ As for his box being open, it is right 
that I should explain that it was the result of a mistake. I 
had occasion to go to a box of my own in a hurry that morn- 
ing, and misled by the darkness and my own nervousness 
perhaps, took up his instead of my own. Not till I had 
opened it — with the tooth-pick, Hopgood, for I had been to 
a reception and did not have my keys with me — did I notice 
my mistake. I had intended to explain the matter to Mr. 
Stuyvesant, but you know what happened that day, and since 
then I have thought nothing of it.” 


LIFE AND DEATH. 


249 


The janitor’s face cleared to its natural expression. 
“You are very kind, sir, to explain yourself to me,” said 
ile ; “ it was not necessary.” But his lightened face spoke 
volumes. “ I have been on the police force and I know how 
to hold my tongue when it is my duty, but it is very hard 
work when the duty is on the other side. Have you any 
commands for me ? ” 

Mr. Sylvester shook his head, and his eye roamed over 
the humble furniture and scanty comforts of this poor man’s 
domicile. Hopgood thought he might be going to offer 
him some gift or guerdon, and in a low distressed tone 
spoke up : 

“ I shall not try to ask your pardon, sir, for anything I 
have said. Honesty that is afraid to show itself, is no hon- 
esty for me. I could not meet your eye, knowing that I was 
aware of any circumstance of which you supposed me igno- 
rant. What I know, you must know, as long as I remain in 
the position you were once kind enough to procure for me. 
And now that is all I believe, sir.” 

Mr. Sylvester dropped his eyes from the bare walls over 
which they had been restlessly wandering, and fixed them for 
a passing moment on the countenance of the man before 
him. Then with a grave action he lifted his hat from his 
head, and bowed with the deference he might have shown to 
one of his proudest colleagues, and without another look or 
word, quietly left the room. 

Hopgood in his surprise stared after him somewhat awe* 
struck. But when the door had quite closed, he caught up 


250 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


his child almost passionately in his arms, and crushing hei 
against his breast, asked, while his eye roamed round the 
humble room that in its warmth and comfort was a palace 
to him, “ Will he take the first opportunity to have me dis- 
missed, or will his heart forgive the expression of my mo- 
mentary doubts, for the sake of this poor wee one that he sc 
tenderly fancies ? ” 

The question did not answer itself, and indeed it was one 
to which time alone could reply. 


BOOK III. 

THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 

XXIII. 

THE POEM. 

“ I’ve shot my arrow o’er the house 
And hurt my brother.” —Hamlet 

When Miss Belinda first saw Paula, she did not, like 
her sister, remark upon the elegance of her appearance, the 
growth of her beauty, or the evidences of increased refine- 
ment in the expression of her countenance and the carriage 
of her form, but with her usual penetration noted simply, the 
sadness in her eye and the tremulous motion of her lip. 

“ You had then become fond of your cousin ? ” queried 
she with characteristic bluntness. 

Paula not understanding the motive of this remark, ques- 
tioned her with a look. 

“ Young faces do not grow pale or bright eyes become 
troubled without a cause. Grief for your cousin might ex- 
plain it, but if you have suffered from no grief — ” 

“ My cousin was very kind to me,” hurriedly interrupted 
Paula. “ Her death was very sudden and very heart- 
rending.” 

“ So it was ; ” returned Miss Belinda, “ and I expected 


252 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


to see you look worn and sad but not restless and feverish 
You have a living grief, Paula, what is it ? ” 

The young girl started and looked down. For the first 
time in her life she wished to avoid that penetrating glance 
* If I have, I cannot talk of it,” she murmured. “ I have 
experienced so much this past week ; my coming away was 
so unexpected, that I hardly understand my own feelings, or 
realize just what it is that troubles me most. All that 1 
know is, that I am very tired and so sad, it seems as if the 
sun would never shine again.” 

“ There is then something you have not written me ? ” 
inquired the inexorable Miss Belinda. 

“ The experiences of this last week could never be writ- 
ten, — or told,” returned Paula with a droop of her head. 
“Upon some things our better wisdom places a stone which 
only the angels can roll away. The future lies all open 
before us ; do not let us disturb the past.” 

And Miss Belinda was forced to be content lest she 
should seem to be over anxious. 

Not so the various neighbors and friends to whom the 
lengthened sojourn of one of their number in an atmosphere 
of such wealth and splendor, possessed something of the 
charm of a forbidden romance. For months Paula was 
obliged to endure questions, that it required all her self- 
control to answer with calmness and propriety. But at length 
the most insatiable gossip amongst them was satisfied ; 
Paula’s figure was no longer a novelty in their streets ; 
curiosity languished and the voting girl was allowed to rest 


THE JAPH A MYSTERY. 


253 


And now could those who loved her, discern that with 
the lapse of time and the daily breathings of her native air, 
the sad white look had faded from her face, leaving it a 
marvel of freshness and positive, if somewhat spiritualized, 
beauty. The print of deeper thoughts and holier yearnings 
was there, but no sign of blighted hopes or uncomprehended 
passions. A passing wind had blown the froth from off the 
cup, but had not disturbed the sparkle of the wine. She 
had looked in the face of grief, but had not as yet been 
clasped in her relentless arms. Only two things could 
vitally disturb her ; a letter from Cicely, or a s'udden meet- 
ing in the village streets with that elderly lady who haunted 
the Japha mansion. The former because it recalled a life 
around which her fancies still played with dangerous persis- 
tency, and the latter because it aroused vain and inexplica- 
ble conjectures as to that person’s strange and lingering look 
in her direction. Otherwise she was happy ; finding in this 
simple village-life a meaning and a purpose which her short 
but passionate outlook on a broader field, had taught her, 
perhaps, both to detect and comprehend. She no longer 
walked solitary with nature. The woods, the mountains 
with all their varying panoply of exuberant verdure, had 
acquired a human significence. At her side went the memo- 
ries of beloved faces, the thoughts of trusted friends. From 
.he clouds looked forth a living eye, and in the sound of 
rustling leaf and singing streamlet, spake the voices of 
human longing and human joy. 

Her aunts had explained their position to Paula and she 


254 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


had responded by expressing her determination to be a 
teacher. But they would not hear of that at present, and 
while she waited their pleasure in the matter, she did what 
she could to assist them in their simple home-life and daily 
duties, lending her beauty to tasks that would have made 
the eyes of some of her quondam admirers open with sur- 
prise, if only they could have followed the action of her 
hands, after having once caught a glimpse of the face that 
brightened above them. And so the summer months went 
by and September came. 

There was to be an entertainment in the village and 
Paula was to assist. The idea had come from her aunt and 
was not to be rejected. In one of the strange incomprehen- 
sible moods which sometimes came upon her at this time, 
she had written a poem, and nothing would do but that 
she must read it before the assembled company of neigh- 
bors and friends, that were to be gathered at the Squire’s 
house on this gala evening. She did not wish to do it. 
The sacred sense of possession passes when we uncover 
our treasure to another’s eyes, giving way to a lower feeling 
not to be courted by one of Paula’s sensitive nature. Be- 
sides she would rather have poured this first outburst of 
seo*et enthusiasm into other ears than these ; but she had 
given her word and the ordeal must be submitted to. There 
are many who remember how she looked on that night. 
She had arrayed herself for the occasion, in the prettiest 
of her dresses, and mindful of Ona’s injunction, did not 
mar the effect of its soft and uniform gray with any hint 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


255 


of extraneous color. The result was that they saw onlj 
her beauty ; and what beauty ! A very old man, an early 
settler in the village, who had tottered out to enjoy a last 
glimpse of life before turning his aged face to the wall, said 
it made the thought of heaven a little more real. “I cs n 
go home and think how the angels look,” said he in his 
simple, half-childish way. And no one contradicted him 
for there was a still light on her face that was less of earth 
than heaven, though why it should rest there to-night she 
least of all could have told, for her poem had to do with 
earth and its deepest passions and its wildest unrest. It was 
a clarion blast, not a dreaming rhapsody, that lay coiled 
up in the paper she held in her hand. 

My readers must pardon me if I give them Paula’s 
poem, for without it they would not understand its effect 
and consequent result. It was called, “ The Defence of the 
Bride,” and was of the old ballad order. As she rose to read, 
many of the younger ones in the audience began cautiously 
to move to one side, but at the first words, young as well as 
old paused and listened where they stood, for her voice was 
round and full, and the memory of clashing spears ina 
whirling battle-axes that informed the war-song which she 
had heard Bertram play, was with her, to give color to hei 
tones and fire to her glance. 


256 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDE. 

He was coming from the altar when the tocsin rang alarm, 

With his fair young wife beside him, lovely in her bridal charm } 

But he was not one to palter with a duty, or to slight 
The trumpet-call of honor for his vantage or delight. 

Turning from the bride beside him to his stern and martial train. 

From their midst he summoned to him the brothers of Germain ; 

At the word they stepped before him. nine strong warriors brave and 
true, 

From the youngest to the eldest, Enguerrand to mighty Hugh. 

“ Sons of Germain, to your keeping do I yield my bride to-day. 

Guard her well as you do love me ; guard her well and holily. 

Dearer than mine own soul to me, you will hold her as your life, 

’Gainst the guile of seeming friendship and the force of open strife.” 

“ We v ill guard her,” cried they firmly ; and with just another glance 
On the yearning and despairing in his young wife’s countenance, 

Gallant Beaufort strode before them down the aisle and through the door 
And a shadow came and lingered where the sunlight stood before. 

Eight long months the young wife waited, watching from her bridal 
room 

For the coming of her husbaud up the valley forest’s gloom. 

Eight long months the sons of Germain paced the ramparts and the wall 
With their hands upon their halberds ready for the battle-call. 

Then there came a sound of trumpets pealing up the vale below, 

And a dozen floating banners lit the forest with their glow, 

And the bride arose like morning when it feels the sunlight nigh, 

And her smile was like a rainbow flashing from a misty sky. 

But the eldest son of Germain lifting voice from off the wall. 

Cried aloud, “ It is a stranger’s and not Sir Beaufort’s call ; 

Have you ne’er a slighted lover or a kinsman with a heart 
Base enough to seek his vengeance at the sharp end of the dart?* 


THE JAP II A MYSTERY. 


25 ; 


‘There is Sassard of the Mountains,” answered she withouten guile, 

“ While I wedded at the chancel, he stood mocking in the aisle • 

And my maidens say he swore there that for all my plighted vow, 

They would see me in his castle yet upon Morency’s brow.” 

‘‘It is Sassard and no other then/' 1 her noble guardian cried ; 

“ There is craft in yonder summons,” and he rung his sword beside. 

“To the walls, ye sons of Germain ! and as each would hold his life 
From the bitter shame of falsehood, let us hold our master’s wife.” 

“ Can you hold her, can you shield her from the breezes that await?” 
Cried the stinging voice of Sassard from his stand beside the gate. 

“ If you have the power to shield her from the sunlight and the wind. 
You may shield her from stern Sassard when his falchion is untwined.” 

“We can hold her, we can shield her,” leaped like fire from off the wall 
And young Enguerrand the valiant, sprang out before them all. 

“ And if breezes bring dishonor, we will guard her from their breath. 
Though we yield her to the keeping of the sacred arms of Death.” 

And with force that never faltered, did they guard her all that day, 
Though the strength of triple armies seemed to battle in the fray, 

The old castle’s rugged ramparts holding firm against the foe, 

As a goodly dyke resisteth the whelming billow’s flow. 

But next morning as the sunlight rose in splendor over all, 

Hugh the mighty, sank heart-wounded in his station on the wall, 

At the noon the valiant Raoul of the merry eye and heart, 

Gave his beauty and his jestings to the foeman’s jealous dart. 

Gallant Maurice next sank faltering with a death wound ’neath his haif 
But still fighting on till Sassard pressed across him up the stair. 
Generous Clement followed after, crying as his spirit passed 
4 Sous of Germain to the rescue, and be loyal to the last ! ” 

Gentle Jaspar, lordly Clarence, Sessamine the doughty brand. 

Even Henri who had yielded ne’er before to mortal hand ; 

One by one they fall and perish, while the vaunting foemen pour 
Through the breach and up the courtway to the very turret’s door. 


258 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Enguerrand and Stephen only now were left of all that nine, 

To protect the single stairway from the traitor’s fell design ; 

But with might as ’twere of thirty, did they wield the axe and Irand, 
Striving in their desperation the fierce onslaught to withstand. 

But what man of power so godlike he can stay the billow’s wrack, 

Or with single-handed weapon hold an hundred foemen back ! 

As the sun turned sadly westward, with a wild despairing cry, 

Stephen bowed his noble forehead and sank down on earth to die. 

“ Ah ha ! ” then cried cruel Sassard with his foot upon the stair, 

“ Have I come to thee, my boaster ? ” and he whirled his sword in air 
“ Thou who pratest of thy power to protect her to the death, 

What think’st thou now of Sassard and the wind’s aspiring breath ? ” 

“ What I think let this same show you,” answered fiery Enguerrand, 
And he poised his lofty battle-ax with sure and steady hand ; 

“ Now as Heaven loveth justice, may this deathly weapon fall 
On the murderer of my brothers and th’ undoer of us all.” 

With one mighty whirl he sent it ; flashing from his hand it came, 
Like the lightning from the heavens in a whirl of awful flame, 

And betwixt the brows of Sassard and his two false eyeballs passed. 
And the murderer sank before it, like a tree before the blast. 

“ Now ye minions of a traitor if you look for vengeance, come !” 

And his voice was like a trumpet when it clangs a victor home. 

But a cry from far below him rose like thunder upward, “Nay ! 

Let them turn and meet the husband if they hunger for the fray.” 

O the yell that sprang to heaven as that voice swept up the stair, 

And the slaughter dire that followed in another moment there 1 
From the least unto the greatest, from the henchman to the lord, 

Not a man on ail that stairway lived to sheath again his sword. 

At the top that flame-bound forehead, at the base that blade of fire— 
'Twas the meeting of two tempests in their potency and ire. 

Ere the moon could falter inward with its pity and its woe 
Beaufort saw the path before him unencumbered of the foe. 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


2 59 


Saw his pathway unencumbered and strode up and o’er tie floor, 

Even to the very threshold of his lovely lady’s door, 

And already in his fancy did he see the golden beam 

Of her locks upon his shoulder and her sweet eyes’ happy gleam : 

When behold a form upstarting from the shadows at his side. 

That with naked sword uplifted barred the passage to his bride ; 

It was Enguerrand the dauntless, but with staring fcyes and hair 
lllowing wild about a forehead pale as snow in moonlit glare. 

“ Ah my master, we have held her, we have guarded her,” he said. 

“ Not a shadow of dishonor has so much as touched her head. 

Twenty wretches lie below there with the brothers of Germain, 

Twenty foemen of her honor that I, Enguerrand, have slain. 

“ But one other foe remaineth, one remaineth yet,” he cried, 

“ Which it fits this hand to punish ere you cross unto your bride. 

It is I, Enguerrand ! ” shrieked he ; “ and as I have slain the rest, 

So I smite this foeman also ! ” — and his sword plunged through hii 
breast. 

O the horror of that moment ! “ Art thou mad my Enguerrand? ” 

Cried his master, striving wildly to withdraw the fatal brand. 

But the stern youth smiling sadly, started back from his embrace. 

While a flash like summer lightning, flickered direful on hi? face. 

' Yes, a traitor worse than Sassard and he pointed down the stair, 
“For my heart has dared to love her whom my hand defended there. 
While the others fought for honor, I by passion was made strong. 

Set your heel upon my bosom for my soul has done you wrong. 

4 But,” and here he swayed and faltered till his knee sank on the floor, 
Yet in falling turned his forehead ever toward that silent door ; 

'* But your warrior hand my master, may take mine without a stain, 

For my hand has e’er been loyal, and your enemy is slain.” 

A short silence followed the last word, then a burst of ap 
plause testified to the appreciation of her audience, and 


26 o 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


Paula crept away to hide her blushing cheeks in the com- 
parative darkness of a little vine-covered balcony that jutted 
out from the ante-room. What were her thoughts as she 
leaned there ! In the subsidence of any great emotion — and 
Paula had felt every word she uttered — there is more or less 
of shock and tumult. She did not think, she only felt. 
Suddenly a hand was laid on her arm and a low voice whis- 
pered in her ear, 

“ Did you write that poem yourself ? ” 

Turning, she encountered the shadowy form of a woman 
leaning close at her side and appearing in the dim light that 
shone on her from the lamps beyond, an eager image of ex- 
pectancy. 

“ Yes,” returned Paula, 11 why do you ask ?” 

The woman, whoever she was, did not answer. “And 
you believe in such devotion as that ! ” she murmured. “ You 
can understand a man, aye, or a woman either, risking hap- 
piness and fame, life and death, for the sake of a trust ! 
Such things are not folly to you ! You could see a heart 
spill itself drop by drop through a longer vigil than the eight 
months watching on the ramparts, and not sneer at a fidelity 
that could not falter because it had given its word ? Speak • 
you write of faithfulness with a pen of fire, is your heart 
faithful too ? ” 

There was something in these words, spoken as they 
were in a tone of suppressed passion, that startled and 
aroused Paula. Leaning forward, she endeavored f'o see the 
face of the woman who thus forcibly addressed her, but the 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


26l 


light was too dim. The outline of a brow covered by some 
close headgear was all she could detect. 

“You speak earnestly,” said Paula, “but that is what I 
like. Fidelity to a cause, or fidelity to a trust, demands the 
sympathy and admiration of all honest and generous hearts. 
If I am ever called upon to maintain either, I hope that my 
enthusiasm will not have all been expended in words.” 

“You please me,” murmured the woman, “you please 
me ; will you come and see me and let me tell you a story 
to mate the poem you have given us to-night ? ” 

The trembling eagerness of her tone it would be impossi- 
ble to describe. Paula was thrilled by it. “ If you will tell 
me who you are,” said Paula, “ I certainly will try and come. 
I should be glad to hear anything you have to relate to me.” 

“ I thought every one knew who I was,” returned the 
woman ; and drawing Paula back into the ante- room, she 
turned her face upon her. “ Any one will tell you where 
Margery Hamlin lives,” said she. “ Do not disappoint me, 
and do not keep me waiting long.” And with a nod and a 
deep strange smile that made her aged face almost youthful, 
she entered the crowd and disappeared from Paula’s sight. 

It was the woman whose nightly visits to the deserted 
home of the Japhas had once been the talk and was still the 
unsolved mystery of the town. 


XXIV. 


THE JAPHA MANSION. 

44 Ah what a warning for a thoughtless man. 

Could field or grove, could any spot on earth 
Show to his eye an image of the pangs 
Which it has witnessed ; render back an echo 
Of the sad steps by which it hath been troa. 

— WORDSUORTM. 

Unexplained actions if long continued, lose after awhile 
their interest if not their mystery. The aged lady who 
now for many years had been seen at every night-fall to 
leave her home, traverse the village streets, enter the Japha 
mansion, remain there an hour and then re-issue with tremu- 
lous steps and bowed head, had become so common a sight 
to the village eye, that even the children forgot to ask what 
her errand was, or why she held her head so hopefully when 
she entered, or looked so despondent when she came forth. 

But to Paula, for reasons already mentioned, this secret 
and persistent vigil in a forsaken and mysterious dwelling, 
was fraught with a significance which had never lost its 
power either to excite her curiosity or to arouse her imagi- 
nation. Many a time had she gone home from some late 
encounter with the aged lady, to brood by the hour upon 
the expression of that restless eye which in its wanderings 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


263 


never failed to turn upon her own youthful face and linger 
there in the manner I have already noted. She thought of 
it by night, she thought of it by day. She felt herself drawn 
to that woman’s suffering heart as by invisible cords. To 
understand the feelings of this desolate being, she had even 
studied the face of that old house, until she knew it under 
its every aspect. Often in shutting her eyes at night, she 
would perceive as in a mirror a vision of its long gray front, 
barred door and sealed windows shining in the moon, save 
where the deep impenetrable shadows of its two guardian 
poplars lay black and dismal upon its ghostly surface. Again 
she would behold it as it reared itself dark and dripping in 
a blinding storm, its walls plastered with leaves from the 
immovable poplars, and its neglected garden lying sodden 
and forlorn under the flail of the ceaseless storm. Then its 
early morning face would strike her fancy. The slow loom- 
ing of its chimney-tops against a brightening sky ; the gradual 
coming out of its forsaken windows and solemn looking 
doors from the mystery of darkness into the no less mystery 
of day ; the hint of roselight on its barren boards ; the gleam 
of sunshine on its untrodden threshold ; a sunshine as pure 
and sweet as if a bride stood there in her beauty, waiting 
for admission into the deserted halls beyond. All and 
everything that could tend to invest the house and its con- 
stant visitor with an atmosphere of awe and interest, had oc- 
curred to this young girl in her daily reveries and nightly 
dreams. It was therefore with a thrill deep as her expecta- 
tion and vivid as her sympathy, that she recognized in hei 


264 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


eager interlocutor and proposed confident, the woman about 
whose life and actions rested for her such a veil of impene- 
trable mystery. The thought moved her, excited her, and 
nade the rest of the evening pass like a dream. She was 
anxious for the next day to come, that she might seek thia 
Mrs. Hamlin in her home, and hear from her lips the tale of 
devotion that should' mate her own simple but enthusiastic 
poem. 

When the next day did come, it rained, rained bitterly, 
persistent and with a steady drive from the north east, that 
made her going out impossible. The day following she was 
indisposed, and upon the succeeding afternoon, she was en ■ 
gaged in duties that precluded all thought of visiting. The 
next day was Sunday, and Monday had its own demands 
which she could not slight. It was therefore well nigh a 
week from the night of the entertainment, before the oppor- 
tunity offered for which she was so anxious. Her curiosity 
and expectation had thus time to grow, and it was with a 
determination to allow nothing to stand in her way, that she 
set out from home in a flood of mild September sunshine, to 
visit Mrs. Hamlin. But alas, for resolutions made in a 
country village prior to the opening of a church fair ! She 
had scarcely gone a dozen steps before she was accosted by 
one of the managers, a woman who neither observes your 
haste, nor pays any attention to your possible preoccupation. 
Do what she could, she found it impossible to escape from 
this persistent individual until she had satisfied her upon 
matters which it took a full half hour to discuss, and when 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY . 


26t 


at last she succeeded in doing so, it was only to fall into the 
hands of an aged deacon of the church, whose protecting 
friendship it were a sin to wound, while his garrulous tongue 
made it no ordinary trial of patience to stand and listen 
In short the best part of the afternoon was gone before sht 
found herself at the door of Mrs. Hamlin’s house. But sht 
was not to be deterred by further hesitation from the pursuit 
of her object. Rapping smartly on the door, she listened. 
No stir came from within. Again she rapped and again 
she listened. No response came to assure her that hei 
summonft had been heard. Surprised at this, for she had 
been told Mrs. Hamlin was always at home during the after- 
noon, she glanced up at the church clock in plain view from 
the doorstep, and blushed to observe that it was six o’clock, 
the hour at which this mysterious woman always left her 
house, to accomplish her vigil at the Japha mansion. 

“ What have I done ? ” thought Paula, and felt a strange 
thrill as she realized that even at that moment, the woman 
with the eager but restless eyes, was shut within the pre- 
cincts of that deserted dwelling, engaged in prayer, perhaps 
wet with tears, who knows ? The secret of what she did in 
that long and quiet twilight hour had never been revealed. 
Leaving the little brown house behind, Paula found herself 
insensibly taking the road to the Japha mansion. If she 
could not enter it and share the watch of the devoted 
woman who had promised her her confidence, she could at 
least observe if the windows were open or the blinds raised 
To be sure she ought to be at home, but Miss Belinda was 


266 


THE SWORD OR DAMOCLES „ 


indulgent and did not question her comings and goings toe 
closely. An irresistible force drew her down the street, and 
she did not hesitate to follow the lead of her impulse. No 
one accosted her now, it was the tea hour in most of these 
houses and the streets were comparatively deserted. The 
only house whose chimneys lacked the rising smoke, was the 
one towards which her footsteps were tending. She could 
descry it from afar. Its gaunt walls from which the pain, 
had long ago faded, stared uncompromisingly upon her in 
the autumn sunshine. There was no welcome in its close 
shutters with their broken slats from which hung tangled 
strips of old rags — the remnants of some boy’s kite. The 
stiff and solemn poplars rose grim and forbidding at the gate 
once swung wide to the fashion and gallantry of proud ladies 
and stalwart gentlemen, but now pushed aside solely by the 
hand of a tremulous old woman, or the irieverant palm of 
some daring school-boy. From the tangled garden looked 
forth neither flower nor blossoming shrub. Beauty and grace 
could not thrive in this wilderness of decay. A dandelion 
would have felt itself out of place beneath the eye of that 
ghostly door, with the sinister plank nailed across it, like the 
separating line between light and darkness, right and wrong, 
life and death. What loneliness ! what a monument of 
buried passions outliving death itself ! 

Paula paused as she reached the gate ; but remembering 
that Mrs Hamlin was accustomed to enter the house by a 
side door, hurried around the corner and carefully surveyed 
the windows from that quarter. One of the shutters wa? 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


20; 


open, allowing the flame of the setting sun to gild the panes 
like gold. She did not know then nor has she been able to 
explain since, what it was that came over hei at the sight, but 
almost before she realized it, she had returned to the gate, 
opened it, threaded the overgrown garden, reached the door 
which she had so frequently beheld the aged woman enter 
and knocked. 

Instantly she was seized with a consciousness of what she 
had done, and frightened at her temerity, meditated an im- 
mediate escape. Drawing the folds of her mantle about her 
form and face, she prepared to fly, when she remembered 
the look of entreaty with which this woman had said on 
that night of their conversation, “ Do not disappoint me ! do 
not keep me long in suspense ! ” and moved by a fresh ini 
pulse, turned and inflicted another resounding knock on the 
door. 

The result was unlooked-for and surprising. To the 
sound from within of a quick passionate cry, there came a 
hurried movement, followed by a deep silence, then another 
hasty stir succeeded by a longer silence, then a rush which 
seemed to bring all things with it, and the door opened and 
Mrs. Hamlin appeared before her with a countenance so 
pallid with expectancy, that Paula instinctively felt that in 
some unconscious way, she had loosened the bonds of an 
uncontrollable emotion, and was drawing back, when the 
woman with a quick look in her shrouded face, exultantly 
caught her hand in hers, and drawing her over the threshold 
gasped out in a delirium of incomprehensible joy : 


268 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ I knew you would come! I knew that God would not 
let you forget! Fifteen years have I waited, Jacqueline ! 
fifteen long, tedious, suffering years ! But they all seem like 
nothing now ! You have come, you have come, and all that 
I ask, is that God will not let me die till I realize my joy ! ” 

The emotion with which she uttered these strange words 
was so overpowering, and her body seemed so weak to stand 
the strain, that Paula instinctively put forth her hand to 
sustain her. The action loosened her cloak. Instantly the 
eyes that had been fixed upon her with such delirious rap- 
ture grew blank with dismay, a frightful shudder ran through 
the woman’s aged frame ; she tore at the cloak that still en- 
veloped the young girl’s shoulders, and pulling it off, took 
one view of the fresh and beautiful countenance before her, 
and without uttering a word, fell back in a deep and deadly 
swoon upon the floor. 

“ O what have I done ? ” cried Paula, flinging herself 
down beside that pale and rigid figure ; but instantly re- 
membering herself she leaped to her feet and looked about 
for some means to resucitate the sufferer. There was a 
goblet of water on a table near by. Seizing it, she bathed 
the face and hands of the woman before her, moaning aloud 
in her grief and dismay, “ Have I killed her ! O what is 
this mystery that brings such a doom of anguish to this poor 
heart ? ” 

But from those pallid lips came no response, and feeling 
greatly alarmed, Paula was about to rush from the house for 
assistance, when she felt a tremulous pull upon her skirt 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 269 

and turning, saw that the glassy eyes had opened at last and 
were now gazing upon her with mute but eloquent appeal. 

She instantly returned. “ O I am so sorry,” she mur- 
mured, sinking again upon her knees beside the suffering 
woman. “ I did not know, could not realize that my pres- 
ence here would affect you so deeply. Forgive me and tell 
me what I can do to make you forget my presumption.” 

The woman shook her head, her lips moved and she 
struggled vainly to rise. Paula immediately lent her the aid 
of her strong young hand and in a few minutes, Mrs. Hamlin 
was on her feet. “ O God ! ” were her first words as she 
sank into the chair which Paula hastily drew forward, “that 
I should taste the joy and she be still unsaved ! ” 

Seeing her so absorbed, Paula ventured to glance around 
her. She found herself in a large square room sparsely but 
comfortably furnished in a style that bespake it as the 
former sitting-room of the dead and buried Japhas. From 
the walls above hung a few ancient pictures. A large hair- 
cloth sofa of a heavy antique shape, confronted the eye from 
one side of the room, an equally ancient book-case from the 
other. The carpet was faded and so were the curtains, but 
they had once been of an attractive hue and pattern. Con- 
spicuous in the midst stood a large table with a well-trimmed 
lamp upon it, and close against it an easy chair with an up- 
right back. This last as well as everything else in the room, 
was in a condition of neatness that would have surprised 
Paula if she had not been acquainted with the love and de- 
votion of this woman, who in her daily visits to this house, 


2 JO 


THE Sri'ORD OF DAMOCLES. 


probably took every pains to keep things freshened and it 
order. 

Satisfied with her survey, she again directed her atten- 
tion to Mrs. Hamlin, and started to find that person’s eyes 
fixed upon her own with an expression of deep, demanding 
interest. 

“ You are looking at the shadows of things that were,” 
exclaimed the old lady in thrilling tones. “ It is a fearful 
thought to be shut up with the ghost of a vanished past, is it 
not? That chair by your side has not been sat in since 
Colonel Japha rose from it twelve years ago to totter to the 
bed where he breathed his last. It is waiting, everything is 
waiting. I thought the end had come to-night, that the 
vigil was over, the watch finished, but God in his wisdom 
says, ‘ No/ and I must wait a little longer. Alas in a little 
while longer the end will be here indeed ! ” 

The despondency with which she uttered these last words 
showed where her thoughts were tending, and to comfort 
her, Paula drew up a chair and sat down by her side. “ You 
were going to tell me the story of a great love and a great 
devotion. Cannot you do so now ? ” 

The woman started, glanced hastily around, and let her 
eyes travel to Paula’s face where they rested with something 
of their old look of secret longing and doubt. 

“ You are the one who wrote the poem,” she murmured ; 
“ 1 remember.” Then with a sudden feverish impulse 
leaned forward, and stroking back the waving locks from 
Paula’s brow, exclaimed hurriedly, “You look like her, you 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


271 


have the same dark hair and wonderful eyes, more beautiful 
perhaps, but like her, O so like her ! That is why I made 
such a mistake.” She shuddered, with a quick low sob, but 
instantly subdued her emotion and taking Paula’s hand in 
hers continued, “You are young, my daughter; youth does 
not enjoy carrying burdens ; can I, a stranger ask you to 
assist me with mine ?” 

“ You may,” returned Paula. “ If it will give you any 
relief I will help you bear it willingly.” 

“You will! Has heaven then sent me the aid my fail- 
ing spirits demand? Can I count on you, child? But I 
will ask for no promise till you have heard my story. To 
no one have I ever imparted the secret of my life, but from 
the first moment I saw your fair young face, I felt that 
through you would come my help, if help ever came to make 
my final moments easier and my last days less bitter.” And 
rising up, she led Paula to a door which she solemnly 
opened. “ I am glad that you are here,” said she. “ I could 
never have asked you to come, but since you have braved 
the dead and crossed this threshold, you must see and 
know the whole. You will understand my story better.” 

Taking her through a dark passage, she threw wide 
another door, and the parlors of the vanished Japhas opened 
before them. It was a ghostly vision. A weird twilight 
scene of clustered shadows brooding above articles of musty 
grandeur. In spite of the self-command learned by hei 
late experiences, Paula recoiled, saying, 

“ It is too sad, too lonesome ! ” But the woman with- 
out heeding her, hurried her on over- the worm-eaten carpel 


272 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


and between the time-worn chairs and heavy-browed cabi- 
nets, to the hall beyond. 

“ I have not been here, myself, for a year,” said Mrs. 
Hamlin, glancing fearfully up and down the dusky corridor. 

It is not often I can brave the memories of this spot/ 
And she pointed with one hand towards the darkened door 
at its end, whose spacious if not stately panels gave no hint 
to the eye of the dread bar that crossed it like a line of 
doom upon the outside, and then turning, let her eye fall 
with still heavier significance upon the broad and imposing 
staircase that rose from the centre of the hall to the duskier 
and more dismal regions above. 

“ A brave, old fashioned flight of steps is it not ! But 
the scene of a curse, my child.” And unheeding Paula’s 
shudder, she drew her up the stairs. 

“ See,” continued her panting guide as they reached a 
square platform near the top, from which some half dozen 
or more steps branched up on either side. “ They do not 
build like this nowadays. But Colonel Japha believed in 
nothing new, and thought more of his grand old hall and 
staircase, than he did' of all the rest of his house. He little 
dreamed of what a scene it would be the witness. But 
come, it is getting late and you must see her room.” 

It was near the top of the staircase and was fully as 
musty, faded and dismal as the rest. Yet there was an air 
of expectancy about it, too, that touched Paula deeply. 
From between the dingy hangings of the bed, looked forth a 
pair of downy pillows, edged with yellowed lace, and beneath 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


273 


them a neatly spread counterpane carefully turned back over 
comlbrtable-lookirig blankets, as one sees in a bed that only 
awaits its occupant ; while on the ancient hearth a pile ol 
logs stood heaped and ready for the kindling match. 

“ It is all waiting you see,” said the old lady in a trem- 
bling voice, “ like everything else, just waiting.” 

There was an embroidery frame in one corner of the 
room, from which looked a piece of faded and half completed 
work. The needle was hanging from it by a thread, and 
a skein of green worsted hung over the top, Paula glanced 
at it inquiringly. 

“ It is just as she left it ! He never entered the room 
after she went and I would never let it be touched. It is 
just the same with the piano below. The last piece she 
played is still standing open on the rack. I loved her so, and 
I thought then that a few months would bring her back ! 
See, here is her bible. She never used to read it, but she 
prized it because it was her mother’s. I have placed it on 
the pillow where she will see it when she comes to lay her 
poor tired head down to rest.” And with a reverant hand 
the aged matron drew the curtains back from the open bed, 
and disclosed the little bible lying thick with dust in the 
centre of the nearest pillow. 

u O who was tin's you loved so well? And why did she 
leave you ? ” cried Paula with the tears in her eyes, at sight of 
this humble token. 

The aged lady seized her hand and hurried her back into 
the room below. “ I will tell you where I have waited an J 


274 THE SWOkis OF DAMOCLES. 

watched so long. Only be patient till I light the lamp It 
is getting late and any chance wanderei going by and st iing 
all dark, might think I had forgotten my promise and ras* 
not here.” 


XXV. 


JACQUELINE. 

' The cold in clime are cold in blood, 

And love as scarce deserves the name, 

But mine is like the lava flood 
That burns in Etna’s breast of flame.” 

— Byroh. 


“There are some men that have the appearance of 
3eing devoid of family affection, who in reality cherish it in 
the deepest and most passionate degree. Such a man was 
Colonel Japha. You have doubtless heard from your cradle 
what the neighbors thought of this stately, old fashioned 
gentleman. He was too handsome in his youth, too proudly 
reticent in his manhood, too self-contained and unrelenting 
in his age, not to be the talk of any town that numbered him 
among its inhabitants. But only from myself, a relative of 
the family and his housekeeper for years, can you learn with 
what undeviating faith and love he clung to the few upon 
whom he allowed his heart to fasten in affection. When he 
married Miss Carey, the world said, “ He has chosen a 
beauty, because fine manners and a pretty face look well 
behind the Japha coffee-urn ! ” But we, that is, this same 
young wife and myself, knew that in marrying her he had 
taken unto himself his other half, the one sweet woman foi 


2j6 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

whom his proud heart could beat and before whom his 
stately head could bow. When she died, the world ex- 
claimed, 1 He will soon fill her place ! ’ But I who watched 
the last look that passed between them in the valley of the 
shadow of that death, knew that the years would come and 
the years would go without seeing Colonel Japha marry 
again. 

The little babe whom she left to his care, took all the love 
which he had left. From the moment it began to speak, he 
centered in its tiny life all the hope and all the pride of his 
solitary heart. And the Japha pride was nearly as great as 
the Japha heart. She was a pretty child ; not a beauty like 
her mother or like you, my dear, who however so nearly re 
semble her. But for all that, pretty enough to satisfy the 
eyes of her secretly doting father, and her openly doting 
nurse and cousin. I say secretly doting father. I do not 
mean by that that he regarded her with an affection which 
he never displayed, but that it was his way to lavish his ca- 
resses at home and in the privacy of her little nursery. He 
never made a parade of anything but his pride. If he loved 
ner, it was enough for her to know it. In the street and the 
houses of their friends, he was the strict, somewhat severe 
father, to whom her childish eyes lifted at first with awe, but 
afterwards with a quiet defiance, that when I first saw it, 
made my heart stand still with unreasoning alarm. 

“ She was so reserved a child and yet so deeply passion- 
ate From the beginning I felt that I did not understand 
her, I loved her ; I have never loved any mortal as I did 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 277 

her — and do ; but I could not follow her impulses or judge 
of her feelings by her looks. 

“ When she grew older it was still worse. She nevei 
contradicted her father, or appeared in any open way to dis* 
obey his commands, or thwart him in his plans. Yet she al- 
ways did what she pleased, and that so quietly, he frequently 
did not observe that matters had taken any other direction, 
than that which he had himself ordained. ‘ It is her 
mother’s tact,’ he used to say. Alas it was something more 
than that ; it was her father’s will united to the unscrupul- 
ousness of some forgotten ancestor. 

“ But with the glamour of her eighteen years upon me, 
[ did not recognize this then, any more than he. I saw her 
through the magic glasses of my own absorbing love, and 
tremble as I frequently would in the still scorn of her un- 
fathomable passion, I never dreamed she could do anything 
that would seriously offend her father’s affection or mortify 
his pride. The truth is, that Jacqueline did not love us. 
Say what you will of the claims of kindred, and the right of 
every father to his childrens’ regard, Jacqueline Japha ac- 
cepted the devotion that was lavished upon her, but she 
gave none in return. She could not, perhaps. Her father 
was too cold in public and too warm in his home-bursts of 
affection. I was plain and a widow ; no mate for her in age, 
condition or estate. She could neither look up to me nor 
lean upon me. I had b^en her nurse in childhood and 
though a relative, was still a dependent ; what was there in 
all that to love ! If her mother had lived — But we will not 


278 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

dwell on possibilities. Jacqueline had no mother and no 
friend that was dear enough to her, to teach her unwilling 
soul the great lesson of self-control and sacrifice. 

“You will say that is strange. That situated as she was 
she ought to have found friends both dear and congenial ; 
but that would be to declare that Jacqueline was like others 
of her age and class, whereas she was single and alone ; a 
dark-browed girl, who allured the gaze of both men and 
women, but who cared but little for any one till — But wait, 
child. I shall have to speak of matters that will cause your 
cheeks to blush. Lay your head down on my knee, for I 
cannot bear the sight of blushes upon a cheek more innocent 
vhan hers.” 

With a gentle movement she urged Paula to sit upon a 
little stool at her feet, pressed the young girl’s head down 
upon her lap, and burying the lovely brow beneath her aged 
hands, went hurriedly on. 

“You are young, dear, and may not know what it is to 
love a man. Jacqueline was young also, but from the mo- 
ment she returned home to us from a visit she had been 
making in Boston, I perceived that something had entered 
her life that was destined to make a great change in her ; 
and when a few weeks later, young Robert Holt from Bos- 
ton, came to pay his respects to her in her father’s house, I 
knew, or thought I did, what that something was. We were 
sitting in this room I remember, yhen the servant-girl came 
in, and announced that Mr. Holt was in the parlor. Jacque- 
line was lying on the sofa, and her father was in his usual 


rHE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


279 

chair by the table. At the name, Holt, the gill rose as if it 
had suddenly thundered, or the lightning had flashed. I see 
her now. She was dressed in white — though it was early 
fall she still clung to her summer dresses — her dark hair was 
piled high, and caught here and there with old-fashioned 
gold pins, a splendid red rose burned on her bosom, and 
another flashed crimson as blood from her folded hands. 

“ ‘ Holt ? ’ repeated the Colonel without turning his head, 
I know no such man.’ 

u< He said he wished to see Miss Jacqueline,’ simpered 
the servant. 

“ * Oh,’ returned the Colonel indifferently. He never 
showed surprise before the servants — and went on with his 
book, still without turning his head. 

“ I thought if he had turned it, he would scarcely sit 
there reading so quietly ; for Jacqueline who had not stirred 
from her alert and upright position, was looking at him in 
a way no father, least of all a father who loved his child 
as he did her, could have beheld without agitation. It was 
the glance of a tigress waiting for the sight of an inconsid- 
erate move, in order to spring. It was wild unconstrainable 
joy, eying a possible check and madly defying it. I 
shuddered as I looked at her eye, and sickened as I per- 
ceived a huge drop of blood ooze from her white fingers, 
where they unconsciously clutched a thorn, and drop dark 
and disfiguring upon her virgin garments. At the indiffer- 
ent exclamation of her father, her features relaxed, and 
she turned haughtily towards the girl, with a veiling o* 


280 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


her secret delight that already bespoke the woman ol the 
world. 

“ ‘ Tell Mr. Holt that I will see him presently,* said she, 
and was about to follow the girl from the room when 1 
caught her by the sleeve. 

“ ‘ You will have to change your dress,’ said I, and I 
pointed to the ominous blot disfiguring its otherwise spotless 
white. 

“ She started and gave me a quick glance. 

“ * I have a skin like a spider’s web,” cried she. ‘ I 
should never meddle with roses.’ But I noticed she did not 
toss the blossom away. 

“‘Who. is this Mr. Holt?’ now asked the Colonel sud- 
denly turning, the servant having left the room. 

“ ‘ He is a gentleman I met in Boston,’ came from his 
daughter’s lips, in her usual light and easy tones. ‘ He is 
probably passing through our town on his way to Provi- 
dence, where I was told he did business. His call is no 
more than a formality, I presume.’ And with an indiffer- 
ent little smile and nod, she vanished from the room, that a 
moment before had been filled with the threat of her silent 
passion. The Colonel gave a short sigh but returned undis- 
turbed to his book. 

“In the course of a few minutes Jacqueline came back. 
She had changed her dress for one as summerlike as the 
other, but still finer and more elaborate. She looked ele- 
gant, imperious, but the joy had died out from her eyes, and 
in its place was another expression incomprehensible to me 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


28l 


but fully as alarming as any that had gone before. ‘ Mr 
Holt finds himself obliged to remain in town over night 
and would like to pay his respects to you,’ said she to her 
father. 

“ The Colonel immediately rose, looking very grand as 
he turned and surveyed his daughter with his clear penetra- 
ting e)e. 

“ ‘ You have a lover, have you not ? ’ he asked, laying his 
hand on her bare and beautifully polished shoulder. 

“ An odd little smile crossed her lip. She looked at her 
hands on which never a ring shone, and coquettishly tossed 
her head. ‘ Let the gentleman speak for himself,’ said she, 
‘ I give no man his title until he has earned it.’ 

“ Her father laughed. A lover was not such a dreadful 
thing in his eyes provided he were worthy. And Jacqueline 
would not choose unworthily of course — a Japha and his 
daughter ! ‘ Well then,’ said he, ‘ let us see if he can make 

good his title ; Holt is not a bad name and Boston is not a 
poor place to hail from.’ And without more ado, they 
hurried from the room. But the light had all died out from 
her face ! What did it mean ? 

“ At tea time I met the gentleman. He had evidently 
made his title good. I was not only favorably impressed 
with him but actually struck. Of all the high-bred, clear- 
eyed, polished and kindly gentlemen who had sat about the 
board since I first came into the family in Mrs. Japha’s life- 
time, here was surely the finest, the handsomest and the best; 
and surprised in more ways than one, I was giving full play 


282 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


to my relief and exhiliration, when I caught sight of Jacque- 
line’s eye, and felt again the cold shudders of secret doubt 
and apprehension. Smile upon him as she would, coquet 
with him as she did, the flame and the glory that drew her 
like an inspiration to her feet when his name was announced, 
had fled, and left not a shadow behind. Had he failed in his 
expressions of devotion ? Was he hard or cold or severe, 
under all that pleasant and charming manner? Had the 
hot soul of our motherless child rushed upon ice, and in the 
shock of the dreadful chill, fallen inert ? No, his looks be- 
spake no coldness ; they dwelt upon Jacqueline’s lovely but 
inscrutable face, with honest fervor and boundless regard. 
He evidently loved her most passionately, but she — if it had 
not been for that first moment of unconscious betrayal, I 
should have decided that she cared for him no more than 
she did for the few others who had adored her, in the short 
space of her incomprehensible life. 

“ The mystery was not cleared up when she came to me 
that night with a short, ‘ How do you like my lover, Mar- 
gery ? * I was forty years her senior, but she always called me 
Margery. 

“ ‘ I think he is the finest, most agreeable man I ever 
met,’ said I. ‘ Is he your lover, Jacqueline ? Are you 
going to marry him ? ’ 

“ She turned about from the vase which she was de- 
nuding of its flowers, and gave me one of her sphinx-like 
looks. * You must ask papa,’ said she. * He holds the 
destinies of the Japhas in his hand, does he not ? ’ 


'HR JAPHA MYSTERY. 


283 


“ 4 Does he ? ’ I involuntarily whispered to myself ; 
following the steady poise of her head and the assured 
movements of her graceful form, with a glance of 
deabt, but loving her all the same, O loving her all and ever 
the same ! 

“‘Your father is not the man to cross you when the 
object of your affections is as worthy as this gentleman. He 
loved your mother too fondly.’ 

“ ‘ He did ? ’ She had turned quick as a flash and was 
looking me straight in the eyes. 

“ * I never saw such union ! ’ I exclaimed, vaguely re 
membering that her mother’s name had always seemed to 
have power to move her. ‘ There was no parade of it before 
the world ; but here at their own fireside, it was heart to 
heart and soul to soul. It was not love it was assimilation.’ 

“ The young girl rose upon me like a flame ; her very 
eyes seemed to dart fire ; her lips looked like living coals , 
she was almost appalling in her terrible beauty and superhu- 
man passion. ‘ Not love ! ’ she exclaimed, her every word 
falling like a burning spark, ‘ not love but assimilation ! Yet 
do you suppose if I told my father that my soul had found 
its mate ; my heart its other half; that this, this nature,’ 
here she struck her breast as she would a stone, ‘ had at last 
found its master ; that the wayward spirit of which you have 
iometim^s been afraid, was become a part of another’s life, 
another’s soul, another’s hope, do you suppose he would 
listen ? Hush ! ’ she cried, seeing me about to speak. ‘ You 
talk of love, what do you know of it, what does he know of 


284 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


it, who saw his young wife die, yet himself consented to live? 
Is love a sitting by the fire with hand locked in hand while 
the winter winds rage and the droning kettle sings ? Love 
is 9 going through the fire, a braving of the winter winds, a 
scattering of the soul in sparks that the night and the tem- 
pest lick up without putting out the germ of the eternal 
flame. Love ! ’ she half laughed ; ‘ O, it takes a soul that 
has never squandered its treasure upon every passing beggar, 
to know how to love ! Do you see that star ? ’ It was night 
as I have said and we were standing near an open window. 
‘ It has lost its moorings and is falling ; when it descries the 
ocean it will plunge into it ; so with some natures, they soar 
high and keep their orbit well, till an invisible hand turns 
them from their course and they fall, to be swallowed up, aye 
swallowed up, lost and buried in the great sea that has 
awaited them so long.’ 

“ ‘ And you love — like this — ’ I murmured, quailing be- 
fore the power of her passion. 

“ ‘ Would it not be strange if I did not,’ she asked in an 
altered voice. ‘ You say he is everything noble, handsome 
and attractive.’ 

“Yes, yes,’ I murmured, ‘ but — 

“ She did not wait to hear what lay behind that but. 
Picking up her flowers, she hastily crossed the room. ‘ Did 
my young mother shriek from joy, when my father’s horse2 
ran away with them along that deadly precipice at . the side 
of the Southmore road ? To lie for a few maddening mo- 
ments on the breast of the man you love, earth reeling be- 


THE ■ JA PH A M YS TER V. 


285 


neath you, heaven swimming above you, and then with a cry 
of bliss to fall heart to heart, down the hideous gap of some 
awful gulf, and be dashed into eternity with the cry still on 
your lips, that is what I call love and that is what I — ’ 

“She paused, turned upon me the whole splendor of her 
face, seemed to realize to what an extent her impetuousity 
had lifted the veil with which she usually shrouded her bit* 
terly suppressed nature, and calming herself with a sudden 
quick movement, gave me a short mocking courtesy and left 
the room. 

“ Do you wonder that for half the night I sat up brood- 
ing and alive to the faintest sounds ! 

“ Next day Mr. Holt called again, and a couple of weeks 
after — long enough to enable Colonel Japha to make whatever 
inquiries he chose as to his claims as a gentleman of means 
and position — sent a formal entreaty for Jacqueline’s hand. 
1 had never seen Colonel Japha more moved. His admira- 
tion for the young man was hearty and sincere. From a 
worldly point of view, as well as from all higher standpoints, 
the match was one of which he could be proud ; and yet to 
speak the word that would separate from him the only crea- 
ture that he loved, was hard as the cutting off an arm or the 
plucking out of an eye. ‘ Do you think she loves him ? * 
asked he of me with a rare condescension of which he was 
no often guilty. ‘You are a woman and ought to under- 
stand her better than I. Do you think she loves him ?’ 

“After the words 1 had heard her speak, what could 1 
reply but, ‘ Yes, sir ; she is of a reserved nature and controls 


286 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


her feelings in his presence, but she loves him for all that, 
with the intensest fervor and passion.’ 

“He repeated again, ‘You are a woman and you ought 
lo know.’ And then called his daughter to him. 

I cannot tell what passed between them, but the up- 
shot of it was, that the Colonel despatched an answer to 
the effect that the father’s consent would not be lacking, 
provided the daughter’s could be obtained. I learned 
this from Jacqueline herself who brought me the letter to 
post. 

“‘You see then, that your father understands,’ said I. 

“ Her rich red lip curled mockingly, but she did not 
reply. 

“ Naturally Mr. Holt answered to this communication in 
person. Jacqueline received him with a fitful coquetry that 
evidently puzzled him, for all the distinguishing charm 
which it added to a beauty apt to be too reserved and 
statue-like. She however took his ring which blazed on 
her finger like a drop of ice on congealed snow. ‘ I am 
engaged,’ she murmured as she passed by my door, ‘and 
to a Holt ! ’ The words rang long in my ears ; why ? 

She desired no congratulations ; she permitted nothing 
to be said about her engagement, among the neighbors 
She had even taken off her ring which I found lying loose 
in one of her bureau drawers. And no one dared to re- 
monstrate, not even her father, punctilious as he was in all 
matters of social etiquette. The fact is, Jacqueline was not 
the same girl she had been before she gave her promise to 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


287 


Mr. Holt. From the moment he bade her good-bye,' with 
the remark that he was going away to get a golden cage for 
his bride, she began to reveal a change. The cold reserve 
gave way to feverish expectancy. She trod these rooms as 
if there were burning steels in the floors, she looked from 
the windows as if they were prison bars ; night and day she 
gazed from them yet she never went out. The letters she 
received from him were barely read and tossed aside ; it was 
his coming for which she hungered. Her father noticed her 
restless and eager gaze, and frequently sighed. I felt her 
strange removed manner and secretly wept. ‘ If he does not 
amply return this passion,’ thought I, * my darling will find 
her life a hell ! ’ 

“ But he did return it ; of that I felt sure. It was my 
only comfort. 

“ Suddenly one day the restlessness vanished. Her 
beauty burst like a flame from smoke ; she trod like a spirit 
that hears invisible airs. I watched her with amazement 
till she said ‘ Mr. Holt comes to-night,’ then I thought all 
was explained and went smiling about my work. She rime 
down in the afternoon clad as I had never seen her before 
She wore one of her Boston dresses and she looked superb in 
it. From the crown of her head to the sole of her foot, she 
dazzled like a moving picture ; but she lacked one adorn 
ment ; there was no ring on her finger. ‘Jacqueline ! ’ cried 
I, ‘ you have forgotten something.* And I pointed towards 
her hand. 

“ She glanced at it, blushed a trifle as I thought, and 


238 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


pulled it out of her pocket. ‘ I have it,’ said she, ‘but it is 
too large,’ and she thrust it carelessly back. 

“ At three o’clock the train came in. Then I saw her 
eye flash and her lip burn. In a few minutes later two 
gentlemen appeared at the gate. 

“‘Mr. Holt and his brother !’ were the words I hea*d 
whispered through the house. But I did not need that an- 
nouncement to understand Jacqueline at last. 


XXVI. 


k man’s justice and a woman’s mercy. 

** Fair is foul and foul is fair.” — Macbeth. 

“ Have you ever seen a man whose instantaneous effect 
upon you was electrical ; in whose expression, carriage, or 
manner, there was concealed a charm that attracted and in- 
terested you, apart from his actual worth and beauty ? Such 
a one was Mr. Roger Holt, the gentleman I now discerned 
entering the gate with Jacqueline’s lover. It was not that 
he was handsome. He could not for one moment bear any 
comparison with his brother in substantial attraction, and 
yet when they were both in the room, you looked at him in 
preference to the other, and was vexed with yourself for 
doing so. He seemed to be the younger as he was certainly 
the smaller ; yet he took the lead, even in coming up the 
walk. Why had he not taken it in the deeper and more im- 
portant matter ? Was it because he did not love her ? 

“I was not present when Jacqueline greeted her guests 
and presented Mr. Roger Holt to her father. But later in 
the day I spent a half hour with them and saw enough to be 
able to satisfy myself as to the falsity of my last supposition. 
Never had I seen on a human countenance the evidences of 


290 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


a wilder passion than that which informed his features, as lie 
sat in the further window of the parlor, presumably engaged 
in admiring the autumn landscape, but really occupied in 
casting short side-long glances at Jacqueline, who sat listen- 
ing with a superb nonchalence, but with a restless gleam 
in her wandering eye, to the genial talk between her acknow- 
ledged lover and the Colonel. I half feared* he would rise 
from his seat, and flinging himself before her, demand then 
and there an explanation of her engagement. 

“ But beyond the impatience of those short burning 
glances, he controlled himself well, and it was Jacqueline 
who moved at last. 

“ I saw the purpose growing in her eyes long before she 
stirred. The face which had been a mystery to me from her 
cradle, was in the presence of this man, like an open page 
which all might read. Its letters were flame, but that did 
not make them any less clear. I felt her swaying towards 
him, before an eyelash trembled or a quiver shook her tall 
form. He may have understood her purpose also, for his 
eye wandered towards the open piano. She rose like a 
queen. 

“ ‘ Mr. Roger Holt is a singer,* said she in passing her 
father, ‘ I am going to ask him to give us one of the old 
ballads you profess to like so much.’ 

“ The conversation at once ceased. The Colonel who 
made no secret of his fondness for music, turned at once 
towards the stranger, with an expression of great courtesy. 
Instantly that gentleman rose, and meeting the request o! 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


29I 


his hostess with a profound bow, proceeded at once to the 
piano. ‘ He will not leave it till he has spoken to her,’ 
thought I. Nor did he, for that very moment as they stood 
turning her music over, I perceived his lips move in a hunied 
question, to which she as briefly responded, whereupon he 
caught up a sheet of music from the pile, and flinging back 
his head with a victorious smile, began to sing. 

“ Had I known what lay behind his words, I would have 
braved everything rather than have allowed him to utter a 
note in that room which had once rung with the carols of 
Jacqueline’s mother. But what could I guess of the possible 
evil underlying the natural ebullition of unrestrained passion 
that from some cause of pride or pique, had met with a 
strange inexplicable check. So I sat still, shuddering per- 
haps, but quiet in my corner ; while the haunting tones of 
his strange and thrilling voice, rose and fell in the most 
uncanny of Scottish love songs. Nor did I do more than 
wonder with all my agitated soul, when at the conclusion 
Jacqueline came back, and pausing beside the man to whom 
she had given her troth, looked down in his beaming face 
and smiled with that overflow of delight, which she dared not 
bestow upon his brother. 

“ Another little incident of that hour remains engraven 
upon my memory. She had been showing to the gentlemen a 
rare plant that stood in the front parlor window, and was di- 
lating upon its marvels, when Mr. Robert Holt, her accepted 
lover, took in his clasp the small white hand wandering so 
invitingly among the leaves of the huge palm, and glancing 


2^2 


THE SWORD OF DAMOGeE* 


at the finger which should have worn his ring, looked inquir- 
ingly into her face. 

“ ‘ O,’ said she, interrupting her little speech to draw 
away her hand, ‘ you miss your diamond ? T have it, sir. It 
lies very safe in my pocket ; it is a beautiful gem, but your 
ting does not fit me.' 

The way she said those words and the air with which 
she tossed back her head, must have made one heart in that 
room beat joyously, but it did not reassure me or subdue my 
secret apprehension. 

Not fit! ’ her lover responded; and begged her to al- 
low him to try it on and see, but she shook her head with 
wilful coquetry, and turning to the piano, commenced sing- 
ing a gay little song that was like silver bells, shaken by a 
sudden and mighty tempest. 

“ Even the Colonel felt the change in his daughter, 
though he never guessed the cause, and came and went dur- 
ing the evening that followed, with certain odd sighs that 
made my heart ache with strange forebodings. Only her 
lover was unconscious, or if he felt the new and wayward 
force and fire in her manner, attributed it to his own pres- 
ence and unspeakable devotion. Mr. Roger Holt, on the 
contrary, thoroughly understood it. Though he was strangely 
calm, as calm now as he had previously been alert and fiery, 
he never lost a gleam of her eye in his direction, or a turn of 
her form towards the chair where he sat. But the smile 
with which he contemplated her was not pleasant to me. It 
was informed with self-consciousness, and a certain hard 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


293 


triumph, that made it almost sinister. ‘ She has given her 
hand to the true man/ I mused, ‘wherever her heart may 
be. But had she given it ? * I began to doubt as I began 
to muse. With that uncontrollable will of hers, she was 
capable of anything ; did she intend to break with Robert, 
iow that she had seen Roger ? I detected no signs of it be- 
yond the evident delight they took in each other’s presence, 
They were guilty of no further conversation of a secret 01 
intimate character, and when with the striking of the clock 
at ten, Mr. Robert Holt rose to leave, his brother followed 
without any demur, even preceding him in his departure and 
limiting his farewell to a short brotherly pressure of Jacque- 
line’s fair hand. 

“ But much may be conveyed in a pressure, or so I began 
to think as I heard the low laugh that rippled from Jacque- 
line’s lips as she turned to go up to her room ; and if I had 
been her mother — 

“ But that is not what you want to hear. Enough that I 
did not follow her, that I did not even acquaint Colonel 
Japha with my fears, that indeed I did nothing but lie 
awake, praying and asking what I ought to do. There had 
been so little said ; there had been so little done. A word, 
a sentence between them, the interchange of a couple of 
songs, and — What else that I could communicate to an- 
other ? 

“A week, two weeks passed, and her look of wilful hap- 
piness did not fly. She was flooded with notes horn her 
accepted lover, whose handwriting I had learned by this 


294 


1HE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


time to distinguish, but not one, so far as I could learn, 
from any other source ; yet her feet tripped lightly through 
the house, and her form had a rich grace in its every move- 
ment, that bespoke a mind settled in some deep joy or quiet 
determination. I felt the impenetrability of a secretly cher 
ished hope, whenever I looked at her. If I had not known 
to the contrary, I should have said that her prospective mar- 
riage had become to her a dream of unfathomable delight. 
Whence then came this rapture ? Through what communi- 
cation was born this secret hope ? I could not guess, I 
could only watch and wait. 

“ Meanwhile some random guesses at the truth had been 
made by the neighbors. Jacqueline had a lover. That 
lover was a gentleman ; but the Colonel was critical ; he had 
refused his consent and the young people had parted. Such 
was the talk, begotten perhaps by the persistency with which 
Jacqueline remained in the house, and the almost severe 
look with which Colonel Japha trod the streets of his native 
village, which he soon felt would lose all their charm in the 
departure of his only child. I scarcely ventured out more 
than Jacqueline; for I have but little control over my feel- 
ings and did not know what I would do, if any one should 
closely press me with questions'. 

“ The unexpected discovery that our pretty young ser- 
vant girl was in the habit of stealing into Jacqueline’s room 
late at night, was the first thing that startled me into asking 
whether or not my supposition was true, that Jacqueline re- 
ceived no messages from Mr. Robert Holt. And scarcely 


THE JATHA MYSTERY, 


295 


had I become certain that a clandestine correspondence was 
being carried on between them through the medium of this 
girl, than the climax came, and knowledge on my part and 
secrecy on hers availed no longer. 

“ It was a day in October. The stoves had been put up 
in the house, and seeing Jacqueline roaming about the halls, 
in a renewed fit of that strange restlessness which had af- 
fected her the day before Mr. Roger Holt’s visit, I went into 
her room to light a fire, and make everything look cheerful 
before dusk. I found the atmosphere warm, and going to 
the stove, discovered that a fire had been already kindled 
there, but had gone out for want of fuel. I at once com- 
menced to rake away the ashes, in order to make prepara- 
tions for a new one, when I came upon several scraps of 
half burned paper. 

“ Jacqueline had been burning letters. Do you blame 
me for picking out those scraps and hastening with them to 
another room, when I tell you they were written in a marked 
and characteristic hand that bore little or no resemblance to 
that of her accepted lover, and that the words which flashed 
first upon my eye were those ominous ones of my wife ! 

“ They were three in number, and while more or less dis- 
colored and irregular, were still legible. Think child with 
what a thrill of horror and sharp motherly anguish, I read 
such words as ‘ Love you ! I would press you in my arms if 
you were plague-stricken ! The least turn of your head 
makes my blood cringe, as if a flame had touched me. I 
would follow you on my knees, if you led me round the 


296 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


world. Let me see Robert take your hand again and 1 
will—’ 

44 4 Forget you ! Do we forget the dagger that has struck 
us ? I am another man since — ’ 

“ 4 1 will have you if Robert goes mad and your fathei 
kills me. That I am burdened with a wife, is nothing. 
What is a wife that I do not — ’ ‘You shall be my true wife, 
my — ' 

“‘To-night then, be ready; I will wait for you at the 
gate. A little resolution on your part, and then — ’ 

“1 could read no further. The living, burning truth had 
forced itself upon me, that Jacqueline, our darling, our pride, 
the soul of our life, stood tottering upon the brink of a gulf 
horrible as the mouth of hell. For I never doubted for an 
instant what her answer would be to this entreaty. Iri all 
her past life, God pity us, there had been no tokens of that 
immovable hold on virtue, that would save her in such an ex- 
tremity as this. Nevertheless, to make all sure, I flew back 
to her room, and tearing open bureau drawers and closet 
doors, discovered that her prettiest things had been sent 
away. She was going, then, and on that very night ! and her 
father did not even know she was untrue to her betrothed 
lover. The horror of the situation was too much for me ; I 
faltered as I left her room, her dainty, maidenly room, and 
actually crouched against the wall like a guilty thing, as I 
heard the sound of her voice singing some maddening strain 
in the parlors below. What should I do ? Appeal to her, or 
warn her father of the frightful peril in which his honor and 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


2 9 ; 

happiness stood ? Alas, any appeal to her would be useless 
In the glare of this awful revelation I had come to \ full 
comprehension of her nature. But her father wa* a man • 
he could command as well as entreat, could ev*-c fence obed- 
ience if all other methods failed. To him, then, must "» go ; 
but I had rather have gone to the rack. He was so proud a 
man ! Had owned to such undeviating trust in his daugh- 
ter’s honor, as a Japha and his child ! The blow would kill 
him ; or daze him so, he might better have been killed. My 
knees shook under me, as I traversed the hall to his little 
study over the parlor, and when I came to the door, I rather 
fell against it than knocked, so great was my own anguish, 
and so deep my terror of his. He was a ready man and he 
came to the door at once, but upon seeing me, drew back as 
if his eye had fallen upon a phantom. 

“ ‘ Hush ! ’ said I, scarcely knowing what I uttered ; and 
going in, I closed the door and latched it firmly behind me. 

‘ I have come,’ said I in a voice that made him start, ‘ to ask 
you to save your daughter. She is in deadly peril ; she — ’ a 
strain of her song came in at that moment from the stair- 
case. She was ascending to her room. He looked at me in 
a doubt of my sanity. 

“‘Not physical peril,’ I stammered, ‘but moral. She 
loves madly, unreasonably, and with a headlong passion that 
laughs at every obstacle, a man whom neither you nor 
heaven can look upon with aught but execration. She — -’ 

“ ‘ Mrs Hamlin ! ’ — How well I remember his cool, calm 
voice, so deliberate in his impressive moments, so deliberate 


298 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


now, when perhaps she was donning hat and shawl for hei 
elopement — ‘You are laboring under a great mistake. In* 
stead of execrating Mr. Holt, I admire him most profoundly 
Since the time has come for me to give up my daughter, 1 
know of no one to whom I would rather surrender her.’ 

“ ‘ But Mr. Holt is not the man,’ I cried, half wild in my 
fear and desperation. ‘ Do you remember the gentleman 
who came with him on his last visit ? He called him his 
brother, and he is I believe, but — ’ 

“ The way he turned his grand white forehead towards 
me at that, made every fibre in my being quiver. ‘ Jacque- 
line does not love him ! ’ exclaimed he. How sharp his voice, 
how changed his eye ! I shrank back, trembling as I bowed 
my head, thinking of the word yet to be said. 

“ ‘ But he won’t compare — ’ he went on with a severe in- 
tonation. ‘ Besides her honor is engaged. You are dealing 
in fancies, Mrs. Hamlin.’ 

“ I tore out of my breast the scraps of paper which had 
enlightened me so horribly, and held them towards him ; then 
bethought myself, and drew back. ‘ I have proof,’ said I ; 
‘ but first I must tell you that Jacqueline is not as good a gir 
as you have thought her. She is not her mother’s child in 
the qualities of love and honor. She is destined to bring a 
great woe upon your head. In her passion for this man, she 
has forgotten your trust in her, the incorruptibility of your 
name, the honor of your house. Be strong, sir for God is 
about to smite you in your tenderest spot. 

“ Ah, with what pride he towered upon me ! this white* 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


299 


haired, stately gentleman before whom I had hitherto held 
my breath in admiring awe ; towered upon me though his 
face was ghostly pale and his hand trembled like an aspen 
as he held it out ! 

“ ‘ Give me the papers you hold there,' cried he. Either 
you are gone mad, or else — Who wrote these lines ? ' he de- 
manded, glancing down upon the hard, firm scrawl that 
blackened the bits of paper I had given him. 

“ ‘ Mr. Roger Holt,’ I returned unhesitatingly. ‘ I found 
those bits in Jacqueline’s stove. Her clothes have been 
sent away, sir,' I continued as I saw his face grow fixed 
above the scraps he consulted. ‘ Twilight is coming on and 
— Mr. Roger Holt is a married man ! ’ 

“ ‘ What ! ’ 

“ I never saw such a look flash from a human face as 
that which darted from his at that terrible moment. I 
thought he would have fallen, but he only dropped the 
papers out of his hand. ‘Heaven forgive us !’ murmured 
I, calmed by a sight of his misery, into some semblance ol - 
of self-control, ‘but we have never understood Jacqueline. 
She is not to be led, sir, by principles or duty. Sne loves 
this man, and love with her is a stormy wind, capable of 
sweeping her into any abyss of contumely or suffering. Il 
you would save her, kill her love ; the death of her lover 
would only transform her into a demon.’ 

“ He looked at me as if I had told him the world had 
come to an end. ‘ My Jacqueline ! ’ he murmured in a low, in- 
credulous voice of the tenderest yearning ‘ My Jacqueline ! * 


300 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ ‘ Oh ! ’ I shrieked, torn by my anguish for him and the 
terror of her escaping while we were yet talking, i God 
knows I had rather have died than contaminate her by such 
words as I have uttered. She is dear to me as my soul • 
dearer to me than my life. I have a mother’s feeling foi 
her, sir. If to fling myself headlong from that window, 
would delay her feet from going down the stairs to meet her 
guilty lover, I would gladly do it. It is her danger makes 
me speak. O sir, realize that danger and hasten before she 
has taken the irrevocable step.’ 

“ He started like a man pricked by a sudden dart. ‘ She 
is going — you believe she is going to meet him ? * 

‘“I do,’ said I. 

He gave me a terrible look and started for the door. I 
hurriedly picked up the scraps that had fallen to the floor 
and rushed around by an inner passage-way to my own little 
room, hiding my head and waiting as for the crash of a 
falling avalanche. Suddenly a cry rose in the hall. 

“ There are some sounds that lift you unconsciously to 
your feet. Dashing out of my room, I detected the face of 
the servant-girl whom I have before mentioned, looking out 
of her door some distance down the corridor. Hastening 
towards her, I uttered some words about her being a busy- 
l>ody, and thrusting her inside her room, locked the door 
upon her. Then I hastened with what speed I might to the 
tront of the house, and coming out upon the grand staircase, 
met a sight that shook me to the very soul. You have been 
up the stairs ; you know how they branch off to left and 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


301 


right from the platform near the top. The left branch led 
in those days to Colonel Japha’s room, the right to the apart 
ments occupied by Jacqueline and myself. Coming upon 
them, then as I did from my side of the house, I found my- 
self in full view of the opposite approach, and there on the 
topmost step I beheld Colonel Japha, standing in an atti- 
tude of awful denunciation, while half way down the stair- 
case, I beheld the figure of Jacqueline, hindered in her 
gliding course towards the front door by the terrible, ‘ Stop ! ’ 
whose echo had reached me in my room and caused me to 
rush quaking and horrified to this spot. I leaned back 
sick and horror-stricken against the wall. There was no 
mercy in his voice : he had awakened to a full realization of 
the situation and the pride of the Japhas had made him 
steel. 

“‘You are my child !” he was saying. ‘I have loved 
you and do still ; but proceed one step farther towards the 
man that awaits you at the gate, and the door that opens 
upon you, shuts never to open again ! ’ 

“ ‘ Colonel ! * I exclaimed, starting forward ; but he 
heard me no more than he would a fly buzzing or a bird 
singing. 

“ ‘ I desire it to shut ; I have no wish to come back ! * 
issued from the set white lips of the girl beneath us. 
‘There is no such charm for me in this humdrum house, 
that I should wish to exchange life with the man I adore, 
for its droning, spiritless existence ! ’ And she lifted her 
foot to proceed. 


302 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


“‘Jacqueline!’ I shrieked, leaning forward in my turn, 
and holding her by my anguish, as I never believed she could 
be held by anything, * Think, child, think what you do ! It 
is not life you are going to but death. A man who can take 
a young girl from her father’s house, from her lover’s arms, 
from her mother’s grave, from the shrine of all that is pure 
and holy, to dash her into a pit of all that is corrupt, loath- 
some and deadly, is not one with whom you can live. You 
say you adore him : can one adore falsehood, selfishness and 
depravity ? Does hypocrisy win love ? Can the embraces 
of a serpent bring peace ? Jacqueline, Jacqueline, you are 
yet pure ; come back to our love and our hearts, before we 
die here in our shame at the head of the stairs, where your 
mother was carried out to her grave ! ’ 

“ She trembled. I saw the hand that clutched the banister 
loosen its grip ; she cast one quick look behind her, and her 
eyes flashed upon her father’s face ; it was set like a flint. 

“ ‘ If you come back,’ cried he, leaning towards her, but 
not advancing a step from where he stood, ‘ you must come 
back of your own free will. I will hold no creature prisonei 
in my house. I must trust you implicitly, or not at all 
Speak then, which shall it be?’ And he raised his hand 
above his head, with a supreme and awful gesture, * a father’s 
blessing or a father’s curse ? ’ 

“ * A father’s curse, then ! since you command me to 
choose,’ rang out from her lips in a burst of uncontrollable 
passion. ‘ I want no blessing that separates me from him ! 
And she pointed towards the door with a look that, defiant 


THE JAPI1A MYSTERY . 


303 


as it was, spoke of a terrible love before which all our warn 
ings and entreaties were but as empty air. 

“‘Curses then upon youi head, slayer of a family’s 
honor, a father’s love, and a mother’s memory \ Curse3 
upon you, at home and abroad ! in the joy of your first pas- 
sion and in the agony of your last despair ! May you live to 
look upon that door as the gateway to heaven, and find it 
shut ! May your children, if you are cursed with them, turn 
in your face, as you are turning now in mine ! May the 
lightning of heaven be your candle, and the blackness o 
death your daily food and your nightly drink ! ’ And with 
a look in which all the terrors he invoked, seemed to crash 
downward from his reeling brain upon her shrinking terror- 
crouched head, he gave one mighty gasp and fell back 
stricken to the floor. 

“ ‘ God ! ’ burst from her lips, and she rushed downwards 
to the door like a creature hunted to its quarry. I saw her 
white face gleam marble-like in the fading light that came in 
from the chinks about the door. I saw her trembling hand 
fumbling with the knob, and rousing from my stupor, called 
down to her with all the force of a breaking heart, 

“ ‘Jacqueline, beware ! ’ 

“ She turned once more. There was something in my 
voice she could not withstand. ‘ I do not hope to keep you,’ 
cried I, ‘ but before you go, hear this. In the days to come, 
when the face that now beams upon you with such longing, 
shall have learned to turn from you in weariness, if not dis- 
taste, when hunger, cold, contumely and disease shall have 


304 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


blasted that fair brow and seared those soft cheeks, know 
that although a father can curse, a woman who loves like a 
mother can forgive. The father cries, ‘ Once go out of that 
door and it shuts upon you never to open ! ’ ‘ Once come to 
that door, say 1/ pointing in the direction of the house’s 
other entrance, ‘ and if I live and if I move, it shall open to 
you, were you as defiled and wretched and forsaken as Mag- 
dalen. Remember ! Each day at this hour will I watch 
for you, kneeling upon its threshold. In sickness or in 
health, in joy or in sorrow, in cold or in heat. The hour of 
six is sacred. Some one of them shall see you falling weep- 
ing on my breast ! ’ 

“ She gave me a quick stare out of her wide black eyes, 
then a mocking smile curled her lips, and murmuring a 
short, ‘You rave! ’ opened the door, and rushed out into the 
falling dusk. With a resounding clang like the noise of a 
stone rolled upon an open grave, the great door swung to 
and I was left alone in that desolated house with my stricken 
master. 


XXVII. 


THE LONE WATCHER. 

" Hark ! to the hurried question of Despair, 

Where is my child ?— and Echo answers— Where ? ” — Byron. 

“Colonel Japiia recovered from his shock, but wai 
never the same man again. All that was genial, affectionate 
and confiding in his nature, had been turned as by a light- 
ning’s stroke, to all that was hard, bitter and suspicious. He 
would not allow the name of Jacqueline to be spoken in his 
presence ; he would listen to no allusion made to those days 
when she was the care and perplexity, but also the light and 
pleasure of the house. Men are not like women, my child ; 
when they turn, it is at an angle, the whole direction of their 
nature changes. 

“ Perhaps the news that presently came to us from Boston 
may have had something to do with this. It was surely 
dreadful enough; Jacqueline’s perfidy had slain her lover. 
Mr. Robert Holt, the cultured, noble, high-souled gentleman, 
had been found lying dead on the floor of his room, a few 
days after the events I have just related, with a lady’s dia- 
mond ring in his hand and the remnants of a hastily burned 
letter in the grate before him. He had burst a blood-vessel, 
and had expired instantly. 

“ This sudden and tragic ending of a man of energy and 


306 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


will, was also the reason, perhaps, why Grotewell never ar- 
rived at the truth of Jacqueline’s history. Boston was a long 
way from here in those days, and the story of her lover’s 
death was not generally known, while the fact of her elope 
inent was. Consequently she was supposed to have fled with 
the man who had been seen to visit her most frequently ; a 
report which neither the Colonel nor myself had the courage 
to deny. 

“ My child, you have a brow like snow, and a cheek like 
roses ; you know little of life’s sorrows and little of life’s 
sins. To you the skies are blue, the woods vernal, the air 
balmy ; the sad looks upon men’s and women’s faces, tell but 
shallow tales of the ceaseless grinding of grief in their pent 
up souls. But you are gentle, and you have an imagination 
that goes beyond your experience ; perhaps if you pause and 
think, you can understand what a tale could be told of the 
weeks and months and years that now followed, without hint 
or whisper of the fate of her who had gone out from amongst 
us with the brand of her father’s curse upon her brow. At 
first we hoped, yes, he hoped, — I could see it in his eyes 
when there came a sudden ring at the bell, — that some sign 
of her penitence, or some proof of her existence, would come 
to relieve the torture of our fears, if not the shame of our mem- 
ories. But the door that closed upon her on that fatal eve, 
had shut without an echo. While we vainly waited, time had 
ample leisure to carve the furrows of age as well as of suffer- 
ing on the Colonel’s once smooth brow, and to change my 
daily vigil into a custom of despair, rather than of hope 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


307 


Time had also leisure to rob us of much of our worldly goods 
and to make our continued living in this grand old house, 
an act that involved constant care and the closest economy 
That we were enabled to preserve appearances to the day 
ihat beheld the Colonel laid low by the final stroke of h h 
dread disease, was only due to the secret charity of a certain 
gentleman, who, declaring he was indebted to us, secretly 
supplied me with means of support. 

“ But of all this you care little. 

4 You had rather hear about the evening watch with its 
hopeful assurance, 4 Yet another day and she will be here,' 
to be followed so soon by the despairing acknowledgement, 
4 Yet another day and she has not come ! ’ or of those dark 
hours when the Colonel lay blank and white upon his pillow, 
with his eyes fixed on the door which would never open to 
the beating of a daughter’s heart, while the gray shadow of 
an awful resolution deepened upon his immovable face. 
What that resolution was I could not know, but I feared it, 
when I saw what a sternness it gave to his eye, what a fixed- 
ness to his set and implacable lip ; and when in the waning 
light of a certain December afternoon, the circle of neigh- 
bors about his bed gave way to the stiff and forbidding form 
of Mr. Phelps, I felt a thrill of mortal apprehension and only 
waited to hear the short, ‘ It shall be done,’ of the lawyer to 
some slowly whispered command of the colonel, to rise from 
my far off corner and stand ready to accost Mr. Phelps as he 
*arae from the bedside of the dying man. 

“ 4 What is it ? ’ I asked, rushing up to him as he issued 


308 the sword of damocles. 

forth into the hall, and seizing him by the arm, with a 
woman’s unreasoning impetuousity. ‘I have nursed his 
daughter on my knee ; tell me, then, what it is he has ordered 
you to do in this final moment ? ’ 

“ Mr. Phelps for all his ungainly bearing, is not a hard- 
hearted man, as you know, and he doubtless saw the depth 
of the misery that made me forget myself. Giving me a 
look that was not without its touch of sarcasm, he replied, 
* The colonel has made me promise, to see that a plank is 
nailed across the front door of this house, after his body has 
been carried out to burial.’ 

“ A board across the front door ! His anger then was 
implacable. The withering curse that had rung in my ears 
for ten years, was to outlive his death ! With a horrified 
groan, I pressed my hands over my eyes and rushed back. 
My first glimpse of the Colonel’s face showed me that the 
end was at hand, but that fact only made more imperative 
my consuming desire to see that curse removed, even though 
it were done with his final breath. Drawing near his bed- 
side, I leaned down, and waiting till his eye wandered to my 
face, asked him if there was nothing he wished amended 
before his strength failed. He understood me. We had not 
sat for so long, face to face across the chasm of a hideous 
memory, without knowing something of the workings of 
each other’s mind. Glancing up at his wife’s portrait which 
ever faced him as he lay upon his pillow, his mouth grew 
severe and he essayed to shake his head. I at once pointed 
to the portrait. 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


309 


“ ‘ What will you say to her when she meets you on the 
borders of heaven ? ’ I demanded with the courage of de* 
spair ‘She will ask, ‘Where is my child?’ And what 
will you reply ? ’ 

“ The fingers that lay upon the coverlid moved spasmodi- 
cally ; he eyed me with a steady deepening stare, awful to 
meet, fearful to remember. I went on steadily ; ‘ She has 
gone out of this house with your curse ; tell me that if she 
comes back, she maybe greeted with your forgiveness.’ Still 
that awful stare which changed not. ‘ I have watched and 
waited for her every day since her departure,’ I whispered,’ 
‘and shall watch and wait for her, every day until I die. 
Shall a stranger’s love be greater than a father’s ? ’ This 
time his lips twitched and the grey shadow shifted, but it 
did not rise. ‘ I had sworn to do it,’ I went on. ‘ When 
you lay there at the top of the stairs, smitten down by your 
first shock, I told her, come sickness, come health, I should 
keep a daily vigil at that door of the house which your sever- 
ity had not closed upon her ; and I have kept my word till 
now and shall keep it to the end. What will you do for 
this miserable child of whose being you are the author ? ’ 

“ With indescrible anxiety I paused and watched him, for 
his lips were moving. ‘ Do for her ? ’ he repeated. 

“ How awful is the voice of the dying ! I shivered as I 
listened, but drew near and nearer, that I might lose no word 
that came from his stony lips. 

‘ ‘ She will not come,’ gasped he, with an effort that raised 
him up in bed, and deepened that horrible stare, but 


310 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLhS. 

“Who shall say what he might have uttered if Death’s 
hand had delayed a single instant, but the inexorable shadow 
fell, and he never finished the sentence. 

“ My child, these are frightful things for you to hear 
Cod knows I would not assail your pure ears with a tale 
like this, if it were not for the help and sympathy I hope to 
gain from you. Sin is a hideous thing ; the gulf it opens is 
wide and deep ; well may it be said to swallow those who 
trust themselves above its flower-hung brink. But we who 
are human, owe something to humanity. Love stops not be- 
cause of the gulf ; love follows the sinner with wilder and 
more heart-breaking longing, the deeper and deeper he sinks 
into the illimitable darkness. Ten years have passed since 
we laid the Colonel away in the burying-place of all the 
Japhas, and dutiful to his last request, nailed up the front 
door of his speedily to be forsaken mansion. In all that 
time my watch has remained unbroken in this house, which 
by will he had left to me, but which I secretly hold in trust 
for her. The hour of six has found me at my post, some* 
times elate with hope, sometimes depressed with repeated 
disappointments, but whether hopeful or sad, always trust- 
ful that the great God who Himself so loved all sinners, that 
He gave the life of His Son to rescue them, would ulti 
mately grant me the desire of my heart. But the decrepitude 
of age is coming upon me, and each morning I leave my 
bed, with growing fear lest my infirmities will increase until 
they finallv overcome mv resolution. Child, if this should 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


311 

happen, if lying in my bed I should some day hear that she 
had come back, and failing to find the lamp burning and the 
welcome ready, had gone away again — But the thought is 
madness. I cannot bear it. A sinner, lost, degraded, suffer- 
ing, starving, perhaps, is wandering this way. She is hard- 
ened and old in guilt ; she has drunk the cup of life’s pas- 
sions and found them corrupting poison; all that was lovely 
and pure and good has withdrawn from her ; she stands 
alone, shut off by her sin, like a wild thing in a circle of 
flame. What shall touch this soul ? The preacher’s voice 
has no charm for her; good men’s advice is but empty air 
God’s love must be mirrored in human love, to strike an eye 
so unused to looking up. Where shall she find such love ? 
It is all that can rescue her; love as great as her sin, as 
boundless as her degradation, as persistent as her suffering. 
Child—” 

“ I know what you are going to say,” suddenly exclaimed 
Paula, rising up and confronting Mrs. Hamlin with a steady 
high look of determination. “In the day of your weakness 
or illness you want some one to unlock the door and light 
the lamp You have found her ! ” 


XXVIII. 


SUNSHINE ON THE HILLS 

44 If I speak to thee in Friendship’s naue 
Thou think’st I speak too coldly ; 

If I mention Love’s devoted dame, 

Thou say’st I speak too boldly.” — Moore. 

The story told by Mrs. Hamlin had a great effect upon 
Paula, not only on account of its own interest and the 
promise it had elicited from her, but because of the remem • 
brances it revived of Mr. Sylvester and her life in New York. 
Any vision of evil or suffering, any experience that roused 
the affections or awakened the sensibilities, could not fail to 
recall to her mind the forcible figure of Mr. Sylvester as he 
stood that day by his own hearthstone, talking of the temp- 
tations that assail humanity ; and any reminiscence of him 
must necessarily bring with it much that charmed and 
aroused. For a week, then, she felt the effect of a great 
UDsettleinent. Her village home appeared a prison ; she 
longed to run, soar — anything to escape; the horizon was 
full of beckoning hands. A brooding melancholy settled 
upon her reveries ; the prospect of a life spent in the narrow 
circle to which she had endeavored to re-accustom herself, 
became unendurable. 

Thus it is with us. We slide in a groove and seem 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY . 


313 


happy, when suddenly a book we read, a story we hear, an 
experience we encounter, shakes us out of our content, and 
makes continuance in the old course a \ iolation of the most 
demanding instincts of our nature. 

In the full tide of this unrest, Paula went out for a soli- 
tary walk on the hills. Nature can soothe if she cannot 
satisfy. Then the day itself was one to make the soul glad 
and the heart rejoice. As the young girl trod the meadows, 
she wondered that she could be sad. Earth and air were 
so full of splendor. Nature seemed to be in league with the 
angels of light. September stood upon the earth like a god- 
dess of might and glory. Every tint of green that variegated 
the mountain-side, wooed the eye with suggestions of un- 
fathomable beauty. A bough of scarlet flame lit here and 
there amid the verdure, served to illuminate the woods as for 
the passage of a king ; and not Solomon in all his glory ever 
wore an aspect more sumptuous than the flowers that flecked 
the meadow and fringed the hardy roadside with imperial 
purple. A wind was blowing, a keen but kindly breeze, 
laden with sweetness and alert to awaken ^Eolian airs from 
the boughs of whistling beech and alder. Even the low field 
grasses seemed to partake in the general cheer, and nodded 
to each other with a witching and irresistible abandon. 
Had a poet been at her side, or any one capable of divining 
the hidden things of nature, what a commentary to all theii 
united thoughts she would have found in the delicious trem- 
ble of the laughing leaves, in the restless music of the run- 
away brooks, in the lowly crickets with their single song, in 


3M the sword of damocles. 

the cloud-haunting birds with their trailing melodies, ind in 
all the roll and rumble of earth’s commingled noises. A1 
luring as was the book of nature, she could not read it alone. 
She felt the lack of a loving hand to turn the page. “ Is it 
that. I am lonely ! ” she murmured. 

The thought deepened her trouble. Coming down from 
the hillside v she entered a skirting of woods that ran along 
by the river. Here she had always found peace and some 
of her richest treasures of thought. Through this opaline 
archway she had walked with her fancies, like Saint Cathe- 
rine with her lily. It was sacred to all that was sweet and 
deep and pure within her. “ Lonely ! ” she whispered ; “ I 
will not be lonely. To some God gives years of happy com- 
panionship ; to others but a day. Shall one complain be- 
cause it has fallen to his portion to have the lesser share ? I 
will remember my one day and be glad.” 

" My one day ! ” She caught herself at the utterance and 
literally started at the suggestion it offered. There was but 
one person whom she had seen but for a day. Could she 
have been thinking of him ? 

With a flush deep as the autumn leaves she carried, she 
was hurrying on, when suddenly in the opening before her, 
a shadow ell, and a mellow voice exclaimed in her ear, 

“ Do I meet Miss Fairchild in her native woods ? ” 

It was Clarence Ensign. 

The surprise was very great and it took her a moment to 
steady herself. She had felt so assured that she should 
never see him or any other of her New York friends again. 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY . 


315 


Had not Cicely written that he had gone West, soon aftei 
her own departure from New York. With a deepening of 
his voice Mr. Ensign repeated the question. 

At once the day seemed to acquire all it had hitherto 
lacked. Looking up, she met his eye fixed admiringly upon 
her, and all that was merry, lightsome and gay within her, 
leaped at once to the surface. Ignoring his question with 
smiling abandon, she exclaimed, 

“ What shall be done to the man who delights in sur- 
prises and startles timid maidens without a cause ? ” 

“ He shall be held in captivity by the hand of his de- 
nouncer, until he has sued for pardon and obtained her gen- 
erous forgiveness,” returned he, holding out his palm. 

She barely touched it with her own. “ I see that youi 
repentance is sincere, so your pardon shall be speedy,” 
laughed she. 

“ Your discrimination is at fault, I never felt more im- 
penitent in my life. I am a hardened wretch, Miss Fair- 
child, a hardened wretch ! But you do not ask me from 
what corner of the earth I have come. You take me too 
much for granted ; like the chirrup of a squirrel, let me say 
or the whistle of a bullfinch. But perhaps you think I in- * 
habit these woods ? ” 

“ No ; but a day like this is so full of miracles, why 
should we be astonished at one more ! I suppose you came 
on the train, but should not be surprised to hear you started, 
like Pluto, from the earth. Anything seems possible in such 
a sunshine.” 


3 1 6 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ You are right, and I have sprung from the earth. I 
have been buried five mortal months in a lawsuit out west, 
or else I should have been here before. I hope my delay has 
made me none the less welcome.” 

( He was holding back a branch as he spoke, and his eyes 
were on a level with hers. She felt caught as in a net, and 
struggled vainly to keep down her color. “ No,” said she, 
“welcome is a guest’s due, whether he come early or 
late. I should be sorry to be lacking in the duties of a 
hostess, though rhy drawing-room is somewhat more spacious 
than cosy,” she continued, looking around on the fields into 
which they had emerged, “ and my facilities for bespeaking 
you welcome greater than my power to make you comfort- 
able.” 

“ Comfort is a satisfaction of the mind, rather than of the 
body. I am not ////comfortable, Miss Fairchild.” Then as 
he stooped to relieve her of half her burden of trailing leaves 
and flowers, he exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone, “ Your 
aunt is a notable woman, Miss Fairchild, I admire her 
greatly.” 

“ What ! ” said she, “ you have been to the cottage ? You 
have seen Aunt Belinda ? ” 

“ Of course,” laughed he, “ or how should I be here ? 
You have been sent for, Miss Fairchild, and I am the hum- 
ble bearer of your aunt’s commands. But I forget, the prac- 
tical has nothing to do with such a day. I am supposed to 
have sprung from the ground, and to know by instinct, just 
in what nook you were hiding frorii the sunlight. Very well, 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY, 31 ; 

1 acknowledge that instinct is sometimes capable of going 
a great way.’' 

But this time her ready answer was lacking. She was 
wondering what her aunt would think of this sudden appear 
ance of a stranger whose name she had never so much as 
mentioned. 

“ It is a pleasant rest to stand and look at a view like 
that, after a summer of musty labor,” said he, gazing up the 
river with a truly appreciative eye. “ I do not wonder you 
carry the charm of the wild woods in your laugh and glance, 
if you have been brought up in the sight of such a view as 
that.” 

“ It has been my meat and drink from childhood,” said 
she, and wondered why she wanted to say no more upon 
her favorite theme. 

“ Yet you tell me you love the city ? ” 

“ Too much to ever again be happy here.” 

It was a slip for which her cheek burned and her lids 
fell, the moment after. She had been thinking of Mr. Syl- 
vester, and unconsciously spake as she might have done, if 
he had been at her side, instead of this genial-hearted young 
man. With a woman’s instinctive desire to retrieve herself, 
she hurriedly continued, “ Life is so full and large and 
deep in a great town, if you are only happy enough to meet 
those who are its blood and brain and sinew. One misses 
the rush of the great wheel of time in a spot like this. The 
world moves, but we do not feel it ; it is like the quiet sweep 
of the stars over our heads. But in the city days, weeks 


3*8 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

and months make themselves felt. The universe jars undef 
the feet of hurrying masses. The story of the world is being 
written on pavement, corridor, and dome, so that he who 
runs may read. One realizes he is alive ; the unit is part ol 
he multiple. To those who are tired, God gives the rest or 
the everlasting hills, but to those who are eager, he holds 
out the city with its innumerable opportunities and incen- 
tives. And I am eager,” she said. “ The flower blooms on 
the mountain, and its perfume is sweet, but the chariot 
sings as it rushes, and the noise of its wheels is music in my 
ears.” 

She paused, turned her face to the breeze, and seemed 
to forget she was not alone. Clarence Ensign eyed her with 
astonishment ; he had never heard her speak like this ; the 
earnest side of her great nature had never been turned 
towards him before, and he felt himself shrink into insignifi- 
cance in its presence. What was he that he should pluck a 
star from the heavens, to buckle on his breast ! Wealth and 
position were a match for beauty great as hers, and a kind 
heart current coin all the world over, for a gentle disposi- 
tion and a loving nature ; but for this — He turned away and 
in his abstraction switched his foot with his cane. 

“ Then it was in New York that I met Cicely,” exclaimed 
Paula. 

He shook off his broodings, turned with a manful gesture, 
and met her sweet unfathomable eye, so brilliant with enthu- 
siasm a moment ago, but at this instant so softly deep and 

tender. 


THE JAP HA MYTSERW 3 IQ 

And the friendship of Miss Stuyvesant is a precious 
thing to you ? ” said he. 

“ Few things are more so,” was her reply. 

He bit his lip and his brow grew lighter. After all, great 
souls frequently cling to those of lesser calibre, provided they 
are true and unflawed. He would not be discouraged. But 
his tone when he spoke had acquired a reverence that did 
not lessen its music. “ You are, then, one of the few women 
who believe in friendship ? ” 

“ As I believe in heaven.” 

Looking at her, he took off his hat. Her eye stole to his 
serious countenance. “ Miss Stuyvesant is to be envied,” 
said he. 

“Are friends so rare ? ” 

“ Such friends are,” said he. 

She gave him a bright little look. “ Had you been with 
Miss Stuyvesant, and she had expressed herself as I have 
done, you would have said, ‘ Miss Fairchild is to be envied,' 
and you would have been nearer the truth than now. Cicely’s 
friendship is to mine what an unbroken mirror is to a little 
racing brook. It reflects but one image, while mine — ” She 
could not go on. How could she explain to this stranger 
that Cicely’s heart was undivided in its regard, while hers 
owned allegiance to more than her bosom friend. 

“ If I were with Miss Stuyvesant now,” he declared, too 
absorbed in his own ideas to notice the break in hers, “ I 
should still say in face of this friendship, ‘ Miss Stuyve- 
sant is to be envied.’ I have no mind for more than one 


320 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


thought to-day,” exclaimed he, with a look that made hei 
tremble. 

There are some men who never know in what field to 
stay the current of their impetuosity : Clarence Ensign did. 
He said no mors than this of all that was seething in his 
mind and heart. He felt that he must prove himself a man, 
before he exercised a man’s privilege. Besides, his temper- 
ament was mercurial, and never remained long under the 
bondage of a severe thought, or an impressive tone of mind. 
He worshipped the lofty, but it was with tabor and cym- 
bal and high-sounding lute. A climb over the stile at 
the foot of the hill was enough to restore him to himself. 
It was therefore with merry eyes and laughing lips that 
they approached the house and entered Miss Belinda’s 
presence. 

There are some persons whose prerogative it is to carry 
sunshine with them wherever they go. Clarence Ensign was 
one of these. Without an effort, without any display of in- 
congruous hilarity, he always succeeded by the mere joyous- 
ness of his own nature, in calling forth all that was bright 
and enjoyable in others. When therefore they stepped into 
the quaint old-fashioned parlor, all prepared to receive them, 
Paula was not surprised to perceive it brighten, and her 
aunts’ faces grow cheerful and smiling. Who could meet 
Clarence Ensign’s laughing eye and not smile ? What did 
astonish her, however, was the sight of an elegant basket of 
hot-house flowers perched on a table in the centre of the 
room. It made her pause, and cast looks of inquiry at the 


THE JAP II A MYSTERY. 32 1 

demure countenance of Miss Abby, and the quietly satisfied 
expression of her more thoughtful aunt. 

“ A remembrance from the city ! ” said Mr. Ensign grace 
fully. “ I thought it might help to recall some happy houri 
to you.” 

With a swelling of the heart which she could not under- 
stand, she leaned over the ample cluster of roses and helio- 
trope. She felt as though she could embrace them ; they 
were more than flowers, they were the visible emblem of all 
she had missed, and for which she had longed these many 
months. 

“ I seem to receive the whole in the part,” said she. 

He may or may not have understood her, but he saw she 
was gratified, and that was sufficient. The afternoon flew by 
on wings of light. Miss Belinda, who was not accustomed 
to holidays, but who thoroughly appreciated them when they 
came, entered into the conversation with zest; while Miss 
Abby’s unconscious expressions of pleasure were too naive 
not to add to, rather than detract from the general enjoy- 
ment. The twilight, with its good-bye, came all too soon. 

“ I have a request to make before I go,” said Mr. En- 
sign. He was standing alone with Paula in the embrasure 
of the window, a few moments before his departure. “ When 
we see a flower nodding on a ledge above our heads, we long 
for it ; I have heard you talk of friendship, and a great de- 
sire has seized me. Miss Fairchild will you be my friend ?” 

She gave him a startled glance that, however, soon settled 
into a mellow radiant look of sympathy and pleasure. 


322 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


44 That is asking for something which if I hesitate tc 
accord, it is because the word, ‘ friend,’ carries with it sc 
much,” said she, with a sweet seriousness that disarmed her 
words of any latent sting they might otherwise have con- 
tained. 

“ I know it,” he replied, “ and I am very bold to ask it 
upon so slight an acquaintance ; but life is short and real 

treasure is so scarce. You will not deny me, Miss Fair- 

child?” Then seeing her look down, hastily continued, “ I 
have acquaintances by the score — friends who style them- 
selves thus, by the dozen, but no friend. I want one ; I 
want you for that one. Will you be it ? I shall be jealous 

though, I warn you,” he went on, with a cropping out of his 

mirthful nature ; “ I shall not be pleased to observe the circle 
widened indefinitely. I shall want my own place and no one 
else in my place.” 

“No one else can fill the place once given to a friend. 
Each one has his own niche.” 

“ And I am to have mine ? ” His look was firm, his eye 
steadfast. 

“ Yes,” she breathed. 

With a proud stooping of his head, he took her hand 
and kissed it. The action became him ; he was tall and 
well made, and gallantry induced by feeling, sat well upon 
him. In spite of herself, she thought of old-time stories 
of the Norse chivalry ; he stood s© radiant and bent so 
low. 

u I shall prize ’my friend at her queenly value,” said he 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY , . 323 

and without more ado, uttered his farewell and took I11* 
departure. 

Paula ! ” 

The young girl started from a reverie which had held hei 
for a long time enchained at that fast darkening w indow, 
and hastily looking up, perceived her Aunt Belinda standing 
before her, with her eye fixed upon her face, with a kind but 
searching glance. 

“Yes, aunt.” 

“ You have not told me who this Mr. Ensign is. In all 
the letters you wrote me you did not mention his name, I 
think.” 

“No, aunt. The fact is, I did not meet him until a few 
days before I left, and then only for an evening, you might 
say.” 

“ Indeed ! that one evening seems to have made its im- 
pression. Tell me something about him, Paula.” 

“ His own countenance speaks for him better than I can, 
aunt. He is good and he is kind ; an honest young man, 
who need fear the eye of no one. He is wealthy, I am in- 
formed, and the son of highly respected parents. He was 
first presented to me by Miss Stuyvesant, whose friend he is, 
afterwards by Mr. Sylvester. His coming here was a sur- 
prise to me.” 

Miss Belinda’s firm mouth, which had expanded at this 
dutiful response, twitched with a certain amused expression 
over this last announcement. Eying her niece with unre 


3 2 4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


lenting inquiry, she pursued, “You have not been happy foi 
the last few weeks, Paula. Our life seems narrow to you , 
you long to fly away to larger fields and more expansive 
skies.” 

With a guilty droop of her head, Paula stole her hand 
into that of her aunt’s. 

“ I do not wonder,” continued Miss Belinda, still watch- 
ing the flushing cheek and slightly troubled mouth of the 
lovely girl before her. “ I once breathed other air myself, 
and know well what charms lie beyond these mountains. In 
giving you up for awhile, I gave you up forever, I fear.” 

“ No, no,” whispered the young girl, “ I am always yours 
wherever I go. Not that I am going away,” she hastily mur- 
mured. 

Her aunt smiled and gently stroked her niece’s hand. 
“ When the time comes, I shall bid you God speed, Paula. 
I am no ogress to tie my dove’s wings to her nest. Love and 
the home it provides are the natural lot of women. None 
feel it more than those who have missed both.” 

“ Aunt ! ” Paula was shocked and perplexed. A break- 
ing wave full of doubts and possibilities, seemed to dash over 
her at this suggestion. 

“ Young men of judgment and principle do not come so 
many miles to see a youthful maiden, without a purpose,” 
continued her aunt inexorably. “ You know that, do you 
not Paula ? ” 

“Yes; but the purpose may differ in different cases,” 
returned the young girl hurriedly. “ I would not like tc 


THE JAPHA MYSTERY. 


325 


believe that Mr. Ensign came here with the one you give him 
credit for — not yet. You trouble me, aunt,” pursued she, 
glancing tremulously about. “ It is like opening a great door 
flooded with sunshine, upon eyes scarcely strong enough to 
bear the glimmer sifting through its cracks. I feel humiliated 
and — " She did not finish, perhaps her thought itself was in- 
complete. 

“ If a light comes sifting through the cracks, I am satis- 
fied,” said her aunt in a lighter tone than common. And she 
kissed her niece, and went smiling out of the room, murmur- 
ing to herself, 

“ I have been over-fearful ; everything is coming right ” 

There are moments when life’s great mystery overpowers 
us ; when the riddle of the soul flaunts itself before us un- 
explained, and we can do no more than stand and take the 
rush of the tide that comes sweeping down upon us. Paula 
was not the girl she was before she went to New York. 
Love was no longer a dreamy possibility, a hazy blending of 
the unknown and the fancied ; its tale had been too often 
breathed in her ear, its reality made too often apparent to 
her eye. But love to which she could listen, was as new and 
fresh and strange, as a world into which her foot had never 
ventured. That her aunt should point to a certain masculine 
form, no matter how attractive or interesting, and say, “ Love 
and home are the lot of women,” made her blood rush back 
on her heart, like a stream from which a dam has been 
ruthlessly wrenched away. It was too wild, too sudden ; a 
friend’s name was so much easier to speak, or to contemplate 


326 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


She did not know what to do with her own heart, made to 
speak thus before its time ; its beatings choked her ; eveiy- 
thing choked her ; this was a worse imprisonment than the 
ot’ier. Looking round, her eye fell upon the flowers. Ah 
was not theii language expressive enough, without this new 
suggestion ? They seemed to lose something in this very 
gain. She liked them less she thought, and yet her feet drew 
near, and near, and nearer, to where they stood, exhaling 
their very souls out in delicious perfume. “ I am too 
young ! ” came from Paula’s lips. “ I will not think of it ! ” 
quickly followed. Yet the smile with which she bent over 
the fragrant blossoms, had an ethereal beauty in it, which 
was not all unmixed with the 

“ Light that never was on land or sea, 

The consecration and the poet’s dream.” 

“He has asked to be my friend,” murmured she, as she 
slowly turned away. “ It is enough ; it must be enough.” 
But the blossom she had stolen from the midst of the fra- 
grant collection, seemed to whisper a merry nay, as it nodded 
against her hand, and afterwards gushed out its iwict lift 
on Her pure young breast. 


XXIX. 


MIST IN THE VALLEY, 

“The true beginning of our end.” 

—Midsummer Night's Dream 

Mr. Ensign was not slow in developing his ideas oi 
friendship. Though he did not venture upon repeating his 
visit too soon, scarcely a week passed without bringing to 
Paula a letter or some other testimonial of his increasing de- 
votion. The blindest eye could not fail to remark whither 
he was tending. Even Paula was forced to acknowledge to 
herself that she was on the verge of a flowery incline, that 
sooner or later would bring her up breathless against the 
dread alternative of a decided yes or no. Friendship is a 
wide portal, 'and sometimes admits love ; had it served her 
traitorously in this ? 

. Her aunt who watched her with secret but lynx-eyed scru- 
tiny, saw no reason to alter the first judgment of that myste- 
rious, ‘‘ It is all coming right,” with which she viewed the 
first symptoms of Paula’s girlish appreciation of her lover. 
If eyes and lips could speak, Paula was happy. The mourn- 
ful shadows which of late had flitted with more or less per- 
sistency over her face, had vanished in a living smile, which 
if not deep, was cloudlessly radiant ; and her voice when not 


328 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


used in speech, was rippling away in song, as glad as a finch's 
on the mountain side. 

Miss Belinda was therefore very much astonished when 
one day Paula burst into her presence, and flinging herself 
down on her knees, threw her arms about her waist, crying, 

“ Take me away, dear aunt, I cannot, dare not stay here 
another day.” 

“ Paula, what do you mean?” exclaimed Miss Belinda, 
holding her back and endeavoring to look into her face. 
But the young girl gently resisted. 

“ I have just had a letter from Cicely,” she returned in 
a low and muffled voice. “ She has seen Mr. Sylvester, and 
says he looks both wan and ill. He told her, too, that he 
was lonely, and I know what that means ; he wants his 
child. The time has come for me to go back. He said it 
would, and that I would know when it came. Take me, 
aunt, take me to Mr. Sylvester.” 

Miss Belinda, to whom self-control was one of the cardi- 
nal virtues, leaned back in her chair and contemplated the 
eager, tear-stained face that was now raised to hers, with 
silent scrutiny. “ Paula,” said she at last, “ is that your only 
reason for desiring to return to New York? ” 

A flush, delicate as it was fleeting, swept over the dew of 
Paula’s cheek. She rose to her feet and met her aunt’s 
eye, with a look of gentle dignity. “ No,” said she, “ I wish 
to test myself. Birds that are prisoned will caress any hand 
that offers them freedom. I wish to see if the lure holds 
good when my wings are in mid-heaven.” 


THE JAP HA MYSTERY. 


329 


There was a dreamy cadence to her voice as she uttered 
that last phrase, that startled her aunt. “ Paula,” exclaimed 
she, “ Paula, don’t you know your own heart ? ” 

“ Who does? ” returned Paula ; then in a sudden rush of 
emotion threw herself once more at her aunt’s side, saying, 
<l It is in order to know it, that I ask you to take me away .” 

And Miss Belinda, as she smoothed back her darling’s 
locks, was obliged to acknowledge to herself, that time has a 
way of opening, in the stream of life, unforeseen channels to 
whose current we perforce must yield, or else hopelessly 
strand upon the shoals. 


BOOK IV. 


FROM A. TO Z. 

XXX. 

MISS BELINDA PRESENTS MR. SYLVESTER WITH A CHRISTMAS 
GIFT. 

“ For, O ; for, O the hobby horse is forgot” 

— Hamlet. 

It was a clear winter evening Mr. Sylvester sat in his 
library, musing before a bright coal fire, whose superabun- 
dant heat and blaze seemed to make the loneliness of the 
great empty room more apparent. He had just said to him- 
self that it was Christmas eve, and that he, of all men in the 
world, had the least reason to realize it, when the door-bell 
rang. He was expecting Bertram, whose advancement to 
the position of cashier in place of Mr. Wheelock, now thor- 
oughly broken down in health, had that day been fully de- 
teimined upon in a late meeting of the Board of Directors. 
He therefore did not disturb himself. It was consequently 
a startling surprise, when a deep, pleasant voice uttered from 
the threshold of the door, “ I have brought you a Christ- 
mas present ; ” and looking up, he saw Miss Belinda stand 
ng before him, with Paula at her side. 

“ My child !” was his involuntary exclamation, and be 


FROM A. TO Z. 


331 


fore the young girl knew it, she was folded against his breast 
with a passionate fervor that more than words, convinced 
her of the depth of the sacrifice which had held them sepa- 
rate for so long. “ My darling ! my little Paula ! ” 

She felt her heart stand still. Gently disengaging her- 
self, she looked in his face. She found it thin and wan, but 
lit by such a pleasure she could not keep back* her smile. 
“ You are glad, then, of your little Christmas present ? " said 
she. 

He smiled and shook his head ; he had no words with 
which to express a joy like this. 

Miss Belinda meanwhile stood with a set expression on 
her face, that, to one who did not know her, would immedi- 
ately have proclaimed her to be an ogress of the very worst 
type. Not a glance did she give to the unusual splendor 
about her, not a wavering of her eye betokened that she was 
in any way conscious that she had just stepped from the 
threshold of a very humble cottage, into a home little short 
of a palace in size and the splendor of its appointments. 
All her attention was concentrated on the two faces before 
her. 

“ The ride on the cars has made Paula feverish,” cried 
she, in sharp clear tones that rang with unexpected brusque- 
ness through the curtained alcoves of that lordly apartment. 

They both started at this sudden introduction of the 
prosaic into the hush of their happy meeting, but remember- 
ing themselves, drew Miss Belinda forward to the fire and 
made her welcome in this house of many memories. 


332 


THE SWORD UR DAMOCLES. 


It was a strange moment to Paula when she first turned 
to go up those stairs, down which she had come in such grief 
eight months or more ago. She found herself lingering on 
its well-remembered steps, and the first sight of the rich 
bronze image at the top, struck her with a sense of the old 
time pleasure, that was not unlinked with the old-time 
dread. But the aspect of her little room calmed her. It 
was just as she had left it ; not an article had been changed. 
“ It is as if I had gone out one door and come in another,” 
she whispered. All the months that had intervened seemed 
to float away. She feb. this even more when upon again de- 
scending, she found Bertram in the library. His frank and 
interesting face had always been pleasant to her, but in the 
joy of her return it shone upon her with almost the attrac- 
tion of a brother’s. “ I am at home again,” she kept whis- 
pering to herself, “ I am at home.” 

Miss Belinda was engrossed in conversation with Ber- 
tram, so that Paula was left free to take her old place by 
Mi. Sylvester’s side, where she sat with such an aspect of 
contentment, that her beauty was half forgotten in her hap- 
piness. 

“ You remembered me, then, sometimes in the little 
cottage in Grotewell? ” asked he, after a silent contemplation 
of her countenance. “ I was not forgotten when you left 
the city streets ? ” 

She answered wit! a bright little shake of her head, but 
she was inwardly wondering as she looked at his strong and 
picturesque face, with its nobly carved features and melan* 


FROM A. TO Z. 


333 


iholy smile, if he had been absent from her thoughts foi 
so much as a moment, in all these dreary months of separa- 
tion. 

“ I did not believe you would forget,” he gently pursued, 
“ but I scarcely dared hope you would lighten my fireside 
with your face again. It is such a dismal one, and youth is 
so linked to brightness.” 

The flush that crossed her cheek, startled him into sud- 
den silence. She recovered herself and slowly shook her 
head. “ It is not a dismal one to me. I always feel brighter 
and better when I sit beside it. I have missed your 
counsel,” she said ; “brightness is nothing without depth.” 

His eyes which had been fixed on her face, turned slowly 
away. He seemed to hold an instant’s communion with 
himself ; suddenly he said, “ And depth is worse than noth- 
ing, without it mirrors the skies. It is not from shadowed 
pools, such bright young lips should drink, but from the 
waves of an inexhaustible sea, smote upon by all the winds 
and sunshine of heaven.” 

In another moment, however, he was all cheerfulness. 
“ You have brought me a Christmas present,” cried he, “ and 
we must make it a Christmas holiday indeed. Here is the 
beginning : ” and with one of his old grave smiles, he handed 
Bertram a little note which had been awaiting him on the 
library table. “ But Paula and Miss Belinda must have 
their pleasure too. Paula, are you too tired for a ride down 
town ? I will show you New York on a Christmas eve,” con- 
tinued he to Miss Walton, seeing that Paula’s attention was 


334 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


absorbed by the expression of sudden and moving sui prise 
which had visited Bertram’s face, upon the perusal of his 
note. “ It is a stirring sight. Nothing more cheering can 
be found the wide world over, for those who have a home 
and children to make happy.” 

“ I certainly should enjoy a glimpse of holiday cheer,” 
assented Miss Belinda. And Paula recalled to herself by 
the sound of her aunt’s voice, gayly re-echoed her assertion. 

So Samuel was despatched for a carriage, and in a few 
minutes they were all riding down Fifth Avenue, eti route for 
Tiffany’s, Macy’s, and any other store that might offer spe- 
cial attractions. It was a happy company. As they rolled 
along, Paula felt her heart grow lighter and lighter, Mr. 
Sylvester was almost gay, while even Aunt Belinda conde- 
scended to be merry. Bertram alone was silent, but as 
Paula caught short glimpses of his face, while speeding past 
some illuminated corner, she felt that it was that silence 
which is “ the perfectest herald of joy.” 

“ I shall make you get out and mix with the crowd,” said 
Mr. Sylvester. “ I want you to feel the throb of the great 
heart of the city on such a night as this. It is as if all men 
were brothers — or fathers, I should say. People that ordi- 
narily pass each other without a sign, nod and smile with 
pleasing recognition of the evening’s cheer. Grave and 
reverend seigniors, are not ashamed to be seen carrying pack- 
ages by the dozen. Indeed, he who is most laden is consid- 
ered the best fellow, and he who is so unfortunate as to show 
nothing but empty arms, feels *hy if not ashamed ; a condi- 


FROM A. TO Z. 335 

tion of mind into which I shall soon fall myself, if we do not 
presently reach our destination/’ 

Paula never forgot that night. As from the midst of oul 
commonplace memories, some one hour stands out distinct 
and strange, like a sweet foreigner in a crowd of village 
faces, so to Paula, this ride through the lighted streets, with 
the ensuing rush from store to store, piloted by Bertram and 
Miss Belinda, and protected by Mr. Sylvester, was her one 
weird glimpse into the Arabian Nights’* country. Why, she 
could not have told ; why, she did not stop to think. She had 
been to all these places before, but never with such a heart 
as this — never, never with such an overflowing heart as this. 

“ I have washed away my reproach,” cried Mr. Sylvester, 
coming out to the carriage with his arms full of bundles. 
“ Aunt Belinda is to blame for this ; she set the example, 
you see.” And with a merry laugh, he tossed one thing 
after another into Paula’s lap, reserving only one small pack- 
age for himself. “ I scarcely know what I have bought,” 
said he. “ I shall be as much surprised as any one, when 
you come to undo the bundles. ‘ A pretty thing,’ was all I 
waited to hear from the shop girls.” 

“ There is a small printing press for one thing,” cried 
Paula merrily. “ I saw the man at Holton’s eye you with a 
certain sort of shrewd humor, and hastily do it up. You 
paid for it ; probably thinking it one of the ‘pretty things.’ 
We shall have to make it over to Bertram, as being the only 
one amongst us who by any stretch of imagination can be 
said to be near enough the age of boyhood to enjoy it.” 


33*5 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“I do not know about that,” cried Bertram, with a ring* 
ing infectious laugh, “my imagination has been luring me 
into believing that I am not the only boy in this crowd.” 

And so they went on, toying with their new-found joy as 
with a plaything, and hard would it have been to tell in 
which of those voices rang the deeper contentment. 

The opening of the packages on the library-table afforded 
another season of merriment. Such treasures as came to 
light ! A roll of black silk, which could only have been 
meant for Miss Belinda. A casket of fretted silver, just large 
enough to hold Paula’s gloves ; a scarf- ring, to which no one 
but Bertram could lay claim ; a bundle of confections, a pail 
of diamond-studded bracelets, a scarf of delicate lace, articles 
for the desk, and knick-knacks for the toilet table, and last, 
but not least, in weight at least, the honest little printing- 
press. 

“ Oh, I never dreamed of this,” said Paula, “ when we 
chose Christmas eve for our journey.” 

“ Nor would you have done right to stay away if you 
had,” returned Mr. Sylvester gayly. 

But when the sport was all over, and Paula stood alone 
with Mr. Sylvester in the library, awaiting his last good- 
night, the deeper influences of this holy time made them- 
selves felt, and it was with an air of gentle seriousness, he 
told her that it had been a happy Christmas eve to him. 

“ And to me,” returned Paula. “ Bertram too, seemed 
very happy. Would it be too inquisitive in me to ask whai 
good news the little note contained to work such wonders ? ” 


FROM A. TO Z. 


337 


A smile such as was seldom seen on Mr. Sylvester’s face 
of late, flashed brightly over it. “It was only a card of in- 
vitation to dinner,” said he, “ but it came from Mr. Stuyve- 
sant, and that to Bertram means a great deal.” 

The surprise in Paula’s eyes made him smile again. 

' Will it be a great shock to you, if I tell you that the name 
of the woman for whom Bertram made the sacrifice of his 
art, was Cicely Stuyvesant ? ” 

“ Cicely ? my Cicely ? ” Her astonishment was great, but 
it was also happy. “ Oh, I never dreamed — ah, now I see,” 
she went on naively. “ That is the reason she refrained from 
coming to this house ; she was afraid of meeting him. But 
to think I should never have guessed it, and she my dearest 
friend ! Oh, I am very happy ; I admire Bertram so much, 
and it is such a beautiful secret. And Mr. Stuyvesant has 
invited him to his house ! I do not wonder you felt like 
making the evening a gala one. Mr. Stuyvesant would not 
do that if he were not learning to appreciate Bertram.” 

“ No ; there is method in all that Mr. Stuyvesant does. 
More than that, if I am not mistaken, he has known this 
beautiful secret, as you call it, from the first, and wou'd be 
the last to receive Bertram as a guest to his table, if he did 
net mean him the best and truest encouragement.” 

“ I believe you are right,” said Paula. “ I remember 
now that one day when I was spending the afternoon with 
Cicely, he came into the room where I was, and finding me 
for the moment alone, sat down, and in his quaint old-fash- 
ioned manner asked me in the most abrupt way what J 


338 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


thought of Bertram Sylvester. I was surprised, but told him 
I considered him one of the noblest young men I knew, add* 
ing that if a fine mind, a kind heart, and a pure life were open 
to regard, Bertram had file right to claim the esteem of all 
his friends and associates. The old gentleman looked at me 
somewhat curiously, but nodded his head as if pleased, and 
merely remarking, “ It is not necessary to mention we had 
this conversation, my dear,” got up and proceeded slowly 
from the room. I thought it was simply a not unnatural 
curiosity concerning a young man with whom he had more 
or less business connection ; but now I perceive it had a 
deeper significence.” 

“ He could scarcely have found a more zealous little 
advocate for Bertram if he had hunted the city over. Ber- 
tram may be more obliged to you than he knows. He has 
been very patient, but the day of his happiness is approach- 
ing.” 

“ And Cicely’s ! I feel as if I could scarcely wait to see 
her with this new hope in her eyes. She has kept me with- 
out the door of her suspense, but she must let me across the 
threshold of her happiness.” 

The look with which Mr. Sylvester eyed the fair girl’s 
radiant face deepened. “ Paula,” said he, “ can you leave 
these new thoughts for a moment to hear a request I have to 
make ? ” 

She at once turned to him with her most self-forgetful 
smile. 

“ I have been making myself a little present,’ pursued 


FROM A. TO Z. 339 

he, slowly taking out of his pocket the single package he 
had reserved from the rest. “ Open it, dear. ’ 

With fingers that unconsciously trembled, she hastily 
undid the package. A little box rolled out. Taking off its 
cover, she took out a plain gold locket of the style usually 
worn by gentlemen on their watch-chains. “ Fasten it on 
for me,” said he. 

Wondering at his tone which was almost solemn, she 
quietly did his bidding. But when she essayed to lift her 
head upon the completion of her ta,sk, he gently laid his 
hand upon her brow and so stood for a moment without a 

word. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked, with a sudden indrawing of her 
breath. “ What moves you so, Mr. Sylvester ?” 

“ I have just taken a vow,” said he. 

She started back agitated and trembling. 

“I had reason to,” he murmured, “pray at nights when 
you go to bed, that I may be able to keep it.” 

“ What ? ” sprang to her lips ; but she restrained herself 
and only allowed her glance to speak. 

Will you do it, Paula? ” 

* Yes, oh yes ! ” Her whole heart seemed to rush out in 
the phrase. She drew back as at the opening of a door in 
an unexpected spot. Her eye had something of fear in it 
and something of secret desperation too. He watched her 
with a gaze that strangely faltered. 

“ A woman’s prayers are a man’s best safeguard,” mur- 
mured he. “ He must be a wretch who does not feel himself 


340 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


surrounded by a sacred halo, while he knows that pure lips 
are breathing his name in love and trust before the throne 
of the Most High.” 

“ I will pray for you as for myself,” she whispered, and 
endeavored to meet his eyes. But her head drooped and 
she did not speak as she would have done a few months be- 
fore ; and when a few instants later they parted in their old 
fashion at the foot of the stairs, she did not turn to give him 
the accustomed smile and nod with which she used to mount 
the stairs, spiral by spiral, and disappear in her little room 
above. Yet he did not grieve at the change, but stood look* 
ing up the way she had gone, like a man before whom some 
vision of unexpected promise had opened. 


XXXI. 


A QUESTION. 

“ Think on thy sins.”— Othello. 

The next morning when Mr. Sylvester came down to 
breakfast, he found on the library-table an exquisite casket, 
similar to the one he had given Paula the night before, but 
larger, and filled with flowers of the most delicious odor. 

“ For Miss Fairchild,” explained Samuel, who was at that 
moment passing through the room. 

With a pang of jealous surprise, that, however, failed to 
betray itself in his steadily composed countenance, Mr. Syl- 
vester advanced to the side of the table, and lifted up the 
card that hung attached to the beautiful present The name 
he read there seemed to startle him ; he moved away, and 
took up his paper with a dark flush on his brow, that had 
not disappeared when Miss Belinda entered the room. 

“ Humph ! ” was her immediate exclamation, as her eye 
rested upon the conspicuous offering in the centre of the 
apartment But instantly remembering herself, advanced 
with a cheerful good-morning, which however- did not pre- 
vent her eyes from wandering with no small satisfaction 
towards this f resh evidence of Mr. Ensign’s assiduous re- 
gard. 


342 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Paula is remembered by others than ourselves,” re- 
marked Mr. Sylvester, probably observing her glance. 

“Yes; she has a very attentive suitor in Mr. Ensign," 
returned Miss Belinda shortly. “ A pleasant appearing 
young man,” she ejaculated next moment ; “ worthy in 
many respects of success, I should say.” 

“ Has he — do you mean to say that he has visited you in 
Grotewell ? ” asked Mr. Sylvester, his eye upon the paper in 
his hand. 

“ Certainly ; a few more interviews will settle it.” 

The paper rustled in Mr. Sylvester’s grasp, but his voice 
was composed if not formal, as he observed, “ She regards 
his attentions then with favor ? ” 

“ She wears his flowers in her bosom, and brightens like 
a flower herself when he is seen to approach. If allowed to 
go her way unhindered, I have but little doubt as to how 
it will end. Mr. Ensign is not handsome, but I am told 
that he has every other qualification likely to make a gentle 
creature like Paula happy.” 

“ He is a good fellow,” exclaimed Mr. Sylvester under 
his breath. 

“ And goodness is the first essential in the character of 
the man who is to marry Paula,” inexorably observed Miss 
Belinda. “ An open, cheerful disposition, a clear conscience 
and a past with no dark pages in its history, must mark him 
who is to link unto his fate our pure and sensitive Paula. 
Is it not so, Mr. Sylvester ? ” 

The advertisements in that morning’s Tribune must have 


FROM A. TO Z. 


343 


been unusually interesting, judging from the difficulty which 
Mr. Sylvester experienced in withdrawing his eyes from 
them. “ The man whom Paula marries,” said he at last 
“can neither be too good, too kind, or too pure. Nor shall 
any other than a good, kind, and pure man possess her," he 
added in a tone that while low, effectually hushed even the 
slow-to-be-intimidated Miss Belinda. In another moment 
Paula entered. 

Oh, the morning freshness of some faces ! Like the sing- 
ing of birds in a prison, is the sound and sight of a lovely 
maiden coming into the grim, gray atmosphere of a winter 
breakfast room. Paula was exceptionally gifted with this 
auroral cheer which starts the day so brightly. At sight of 
her face Mr. Sylvester dropped his paper, and even Miss 
Belinda straightened herself more energetically. “ Merry 
Christmas,” cried her sweet young voice, and immediately 
the whole day seemed to grow glad with promise and gay- 
some with ringing sleigh-bells. “ It’s snowing, did you 
know it ? A world of life is in the air ; the flakes dance as 
they come down, like dervishes in a frenzy. It was all we 
lacked to make the day complete ; now we have every- 
thing.” 

“ Yes,” said Miss Belinda, with a significant glance at 
the table, “ everything.” 

Paula followed her glance, saw the silver box with its 
wealth of blossoms, and faltered back with a quick look at 
Mr. Sylvester’s grave and watchful countenance. 

“ Mr. Ensign seems to be possessed of clairvoyance,” ob- 


344 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


served Miss Belinda easily. “ How he could know that you 
were to be in town to-day, I cannot imagine.” 

“ I wrote him in my last letter that in all probability I 
should spend the holidays with Mr. Sylvester,” explained 
Paula sifriply, but with a slow and deepening flush, that left 
the roses she contemplated nothing of which to boast. “ J 
did so, because he proposed to visit Grotewell on Christmas.” 

There was a short silence in the room, then Mr. Sylves- 
ter rose, and remarking with polite composure, “ It is a very 
pretty remembrance,” led the way into the dining-room. 
Paula with a slow drooping of her head quickly followed, 
while Miss Belinda brought up the rear, with the look of a 
successful diplomat. 

A meal in the Sylvester mansion was always a formal 
affair, but this was more than formal. A vague oppression 
seemed to fill the air ; an oppression which Miss Belinda’s 
stirring conversation found it impossible to dissipate. In 
compliance to Mr. Sylvester’s request, she sat at the head of 
the table, and was the only one who seemed able to eat any- 
thing. For one thing she had never seen Ona in that post of 
honor, but Paula and Mr. Sylvester could not forget the 
graceful form that once occupied that seat. The first meal 
above a grave, no matter how long it has been dug, must ever 
seem weighted with more or less unreality. 

Besides, with Paula there was a vague unsettled feeling, 
as if some delicate inner balance had been too rudely 
shaken. She longed to fly away and think, and she was 
obliged to sit still and talk. 


FROM A. TO Z. 


345 


The end of the meal was a relief to all parties. Miss 
Belinda went up stairs, thoughtfully shaking her firm head; 
Mr. Sylvester sat down again to his paper, and Paula ad- 
vanced towards the dainty gift that awaited her inspection on 
the library table. But half way to it she paused. A* strange 
shyness had seized her. With Mr. Sylvester sitting there, 
she dared not approach this delicate testimonia of another’s 
affection. She did not know as she wished to. Her eyes stole 
in hesitation to the floor. Suddenly Mr. Sylvester spoke : 

“ Why do you not look at your pretty present, Paula ? ” 

She started, gave him a quick glance, and advanced 
hurriedly towards the table ; but scarcely had she reached it 
when she paused, turned and hastened over to his side. He 
was still reading, or appearing to read, but she saw his hand 
tremble where it grasped the sheet, though his face with its 
clear cut profile, shone calm and cold against the dark back- 
ground of the wall beyond. 

“ I do not care to look at it now,” said she, with a 
hurried interlacing of her restless fingers. 

He turned towards her and a quick thrill passed over his 
countenance. “ Sit down, Paula, said he, “ I want to talk to 
you.” 

She obeyed as might an automaton. Was it the tone of 
his voice that chilled her, or the studied aspect of his fixed 
and solemn countenance ? He did not speak at once, but 
when he did, there was no faltering in his voice, that was 
lower than common, but deep, like still waters that have run 
into dark channels far from the light of day. 


346 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ Paula, I want to- ask you a question. What would you 
think of a man that, with deliberate selfishness, went into the 
king’s garden, and plucking up by the roots the most beau- 
tiful flower he could find there, carried it into a dungeon to 
pant out its exquisite life amid chill and darkness ? ” 

“ I should think,” replied she, after the first startled 
moment of silence, “ that the man did well, if by its one 
breath of sweetness, the flower could comfort the heart o/ 
him who sat in the dungeon.” 

The glance with which Mr. Sylvester regarded her, sud- 
denly faltered ; he turned with quickness towards the fire. 
“A moment’s joy is, then, excuse for a murder,” exclaimed 
he. u God and the angels would not agree with you, 
Paula.” 

There was a quivering in his tone, made all the more 
apparent by its studied self-possession of a moment before. 
She trembled where she sat, and opened her lips to speak, but 
closed them again, awed by his steady and abstracted gaze, 
now fixed before him in gloomy reverie. A moment passed. 
The clock ticking away on the mantel-piece seemed to echo 
the inevitable “ Forever ! never ! ” of Longfellow’s old song. 
Neither of them moved. At length, in a low and trem- 
bling voice, Paula spoke : 

“ Is it murder, when the flower loves the dark of the 
dungeon more than it does the light of day ? ” 

With a subdued but passionate cry he rose hastily to his 
feet. “Yes,” said he, and drew back as if he could not beai 
the sight of her face or the glance of her eye. “ Sunshine is 


FROM A. TO Z. 


347 


the breath of flowers ; sweet wooing gales, their natural at- 
mosphere. He who meddles with a treasure so choice does 
it at his peril/’ Then as she hurriedly rose in turn, softened 
his whole tone, and assuming his usual air of kindly father- 
hood, asked her in the most natural way in the world, what 
he could do to make her happy that day. 

“ Nothing,” replied she, with a droop of her head ; “ I 
think I will go and see Cicely.” 

A short sigh escaped him. “ The carriage shall be 
ready for you,” said he. “ I hope your friend’s happiness 
will overflow into your own gentle bosom, and make the day 
a very pleasant one. God bless your young sweet heart, my 
Paula ! ” 

Her breast heaved, her large, dark, mellow eyes flashed 
with one quick glance towards his face, then she drew back, 
and in another moment left his side and quietly glided from 
the room. His very life seemed to go with her, yet he dia 
not stir ; but he sighed deeply when, upon turning towards 
the library-table, he found that she had carried away with 
her the silent testimonial of another and more fortunate 
man’s love and devotion. 


XXXII. 


FULL TIDE. 

“ A skirmish of wit between them.” 

—Much Ado About NoTHiaa 

Man thinks he is strong, and lays his foundations, raises 
his walls, and dreams of his completed turrets, without reck- 
oning the force of the gales or the insidious inundating of 
the waters that may bring low the mounting structure before 
its time. When with a firm hand, Mr. Sylvester thrust back 
from his heart the one delight which of all the world could 
afford, seemed to him at that moment the dearest and the 
best, he thought the struggle was over and the victory won. 
It had not even commenced. He was made startlingly alive 
to this fact at the very next interview he had with Paula. 
She had just come from Miss Stuyvesant, and the reflection 
of her friend’s scarcely comprehended joy was on her coun- 
tenance, together with a look he could not comprehend, but 
which stirred and haunted him, until he felt forced to ask if 
she had seen any other of her old friends, in the short visit 
she had paid. 

“ Yes,” said she, with a distressed blush. “ Mr. Ensign 
was unexpectedly there.” 

It is comparatively easy to restrain your own hand from 
snatching at a treasure you greatly covet, but it is much 


FROM A. TO Z. 


349 


more difficult to behold another and a lessei one grasp and 
carry it away before your eyes. He succeeded in hiding 
the shadow that oppressed him, but he was constrained to 
recognize the sharpness of the conflict that was about to be 
waged in the recesses of his own breast. A conflict, because 
he knew that a lift of his finger, or a glance of his eye would 
decide the matter then, while in a week, perhaps, the glamour 
of a young sunshiny love, would have worked its inevitable 
result, and the happiness that had so unexpectedly startled 
upon him in his monotonous and sombre path, would have 
wandered forever out of his reach. How did he meet its 
unexpected rush. Sternly at first, but with greater and 
greater wavering as the days went by, each one revealing 
fresh beauties of character and deeper springs of feeling in 
the enchanting girl thus brought in all her varied charm 
before his eyes. Why should he not be happy ? If there 
were dark pages in his life, had they not long ago been closed 
and sealed, and was not the future bright with promise ? A 
man of his years was not through with life. He felt at times 
as he gazed upon her face with its indescribable power of 
awakening far-reaching thoughts and feelings in callous 
breasts long unused to the holy influence of either, that he 
had just begun to live ; that the golden country, with its 
enticing vistas, lay all before him, and that the youth, which 
he had missed, had somehow returned to his prime, fresh 
with mo’.e than its usual enthusiasm and bright with more 
than it r. wonted hopes and projects. With this glorious 
worazn at his side, life would be new indeed, and if new why 


350 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


not pure and sweet and noble ? What was there to hinder 
dim from making the existence of this sweet soul a walking 
amongst gentle duties, satisfied dreams and holy aspirations ? 
A past remorse ? Why the gates could be closed on that ! 
A strain of innate weakness for the world’s good opinion and 
applause ? Ah ! with love in his life such a weakness must 
disappear ; besides had he not taken a vow on her dear 
head, that ought to hedge him about as with angel’s wings in 
the hour of temptation ? Men with his experience do not 
invoke the protection of innocence to guard a degraded soul. 
Why, then, all this hesitation? A great boon was being 
offered to him after years of loneliness and immeasurable 
longing ; was it not the will of heaven, that he should meet 
and enjoy this unexpected grace ? He dared to stop and 
ask, and once daring to ask, the insidious waters found 
their way beneath the foundations of his resolution, and the 
lofty structure he had reared in such self-confidence, began 
to tremble where it stood, though as yet it betrayed no visi- 
ble sign of weakness. 

Meanwhile, society with its innumerable demands, had 
drawn the beautiful young girl within its controlling grasp. 
She must go here, she must go there ; she must lend her 
talents to this, her beauty to that. Before she had decided 
whether she ought to remain in the city a week, two had 
flown by, and in all this time Mr. Ensign had been ever at 
her side, brightening in her own despite, hours which might 
else have been sad, and surrounding her difficult path with 
proofs of his silent and wary devotion. A golden net seemed 


FROM A. TO Z. 


35 


to be closing around her, and, though as yet, she had given 
no token of a special recognition of her position, Miss Belinda 
betrayed by the uniform complacence of her demeanor, that 
she for one regarded the matter as effectually settled. 

The success which Bertram had met in his first visit at 
Mr. Stuyvesant’s, was not the least agitating factor in this 
fortnight’s secret history. He was too much a part of the 
home life at Mr. Sylvester’s, not to make the lightest thrill of 
his frank and sensitive nature felt by all who invaded its 
precincts. And he was in a state of repressed expectancy at 
this time, that unconsciously created an atmosphere about 
him of vague but restless excitement. The hearts of all 
who encountered his look of concentrated delight, must un- 
consciously beat with his. A strain sweeter than his old- 
time music was in his voice. When he played upon the 
piano, which was but seldom, it was as if he breathed out 
his soul before the holy images. When he walked, he seemed 
to tread on air. His every glance was a question as to 
whether this great joy, for which he had so long and patiently 
waited, was to be his ? Love, living and apotheosized, ap- 
peared to blaze before them, and no one can look on love 
without feeling somewhere in his soul the stir of those deep 
waters, whose pulsing throb even in the darkness of mid- 
night, proves that we are the children of God. 

Cicely was uncommunicative, but her face, when Paula 
beheld it, was like the glowing countenance of some sculp- 
tured saint, from which the veil is slowly being withdrawn. 

Suddenly there came an evening when the force of the 


35 2 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


spell that held all these various hearts enchained gave way 
It was the night of a private entertainment of great elegancy 
to be held at the house of a friend of Miss Stuyvesant. 
Bertram had received formal permission from the father ot 
Cicely, to act as his daughter’s escort, and the fact had 
transformed him from a hopeful dreamer, into a man deter- 
mined to speak and know his fate at once. Paula was en- 
gaged to take part in the entertainment, and the sight of her 
daintily-decked figure leaving the house with Mr. Ensign, 
was the last drop in the slowly gathering tide that was 
secretly swelling in Mr. Sylvester’s breast ; and it was with 
'a sudden outrush of his whole determined nature that he 
stepped upstairs, dressed himself in evening attire, and de- 
liberately followed them to the place where they were going. 
“ The wealth of the Indies is slipping from my grasp,” was 
his passionate exclamation, as he rode through the lighted 
streets. “ I cannot see it go ; if she can care more for me 
than for this sleek, merry-hearted young fellow, she shall. I 
know that my love is to his, what the mighty ocean is to a 
placid lake, and with such love one ought to be panoplied as 
with resisting steel.” 

A stream of light and music met him, as he went up the 
stoop of the house that held his treasure. It seemed to in- 
toxicate him. Glow, melody and perfume, were so many 
expressions of Paula. His friends, of whom there v/ere many 
present, received him with tokens of respect, not unmingled 
with surprise. It was the first time he had been seen in 
public since his wife’s death, and they could not but remark 


FROM A. TO Z. 


353 


upon the cheerfulness of his bearing, and the almost exalted 
expression of his proud and restless eye. Had Paula accom- 
panied him, they might have understood his emotion, but 
with the beautiful girl under the care of one of the most eli- 
gible gentlemen in town, what could have happened to Mr. 
Sylvester to make his once melancholy countenance blazon 
like a star amid this joyous and merrily-laughing throng. 
He did not enlighten them, but moved from group to group, 
searching for Paula. Suddenly the thought flashed upon 
him, “ Is it only an hour or so since I smiled upon her in 
my own hall, and shook my head when she asked me with 
a quick, pleading look, to come with them to this very 
spot ? ” It seemed days, since that time. The rush of these 
new thoughts, the final making up of this slowly-maturing 
purpose, the sudden allowing of his heart to regard her as a 
woman to be won, had carried the past away as by the 
sweep of a mountain torrent. He could not believe he had 
ever known a moment of hesitancy, ever looked at her as a 
father, ever bid her go on her way and leave the prisoner to 
his fate. He must always have felt like this ; such momen- 
tum could not have been gathered in an hour ; she must 
know that he loved her wildly, deeply, sacredly, wholly, with 
the fibre of his mind, his body and his soul ; that to call her 
his in life and in death, was the one demanding passion of 
his existence, making the past a dream, and the future — ah, 
he dared not question that ! He must behold her face be- 
fore he could even speculate upon the realities lying behind 
fate’s down-dravm curtain. 


354 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


Meanwhile fair faces and lovely forms flitted before him 
carrying his glance along in their train, but only because 
youth was a symbol of Paula. If these fresh young girls 
could smile and look back upon him, with that lingering 
glance which his presence ever invoked, why not she who 
was not only sweet, tender, and lovely, but gifted with a 
nature that responded to the deep things of life, and the 
stern passions of potent humanity Could a merry laugh lure 
her while he stood by ? Was the sunshine the natural at- 
mosphere of this flower, that had bloomed under his eye so 
sweetly and shed out its innocent fragrance, at the approach 
of his solemn-pacing foot ? He began to mirror before his 
mind's eye the startled look of happy wonder with which 
she would greet his impassioned glance, when released from 
whatever duties might be now pressing upon her ; she wan 
dered into these rooms, to find him awaiting her, when sud- 
denly there was a stir in the throng, a pleased and excited 
rush, and the large curtain which he had vaguely noticed 
hanging at one end of the room, uplifted and — was it Paula ? 
this coy, brilliant, saucy-eyed Florentine maiden, stepping 
out from a bower of greenery, with finger on her lip, and a 
backward glance of saucy defiance that seemed to people 
the verdant walks behind her with gallant cavaliers, eager to 
follow upon her footsteps? Yes; he could not be mistaken ; 
there was but one face like that in the world. It was Paula, 
but Paula with youth’s merriest glamour upon her, a glamour 
that had caught its radiant light from other thoughts than 
those in which he had been engaged. He bowed his head. 


FROM A TO Z. 


355 


and a shudder went through him like. that which precedes 
the falling knife of the executioner. Even the applause that 
greeted the revelation of so much loveliness and alluring 
charm, passed over him like a dream. He was battling with 
his first recognition of the possibility of his being too late. 
Suddenly her voice was heard. 

She was speaking aloud to herself, this Florentine maiden 
who had outstripped her lover in the garden, but the tone 
was the same he had heard beside his own hearthstone, and 
the archness that accompanied it had frequently met and 
encouraged some cheerful expression of his own. These are 
the words she uttered. Listen with him to the naive , half 
tender, half pettish voice, and mark with his eyes the alter- 
nate lights and shadows that flit across her cheek as she 
broodingly murmurs : 

He is certainly a most notable gallant. His “ Good day, lady ! ” 
and his “ Good even to you ! ” are flavored with the cream of perfectest 
courtesy. But gallantry while it sits well upon a man, does not make him 
one, any more than a feather makes the cap it adorns. For a Tuscan he 
hath also a certain comeliness, but then I have ever sworn, in good faith 
to:> that I would not marry a Tuscan, were he the best made man in 
taly. Then there is his glance, which proclaims to all men’s understand- 
ings that he loves me, which same seems overbold ; but then his smile ! 
Well, for a smile it certainly does credit to his wit, but one cannot live 
upon smiles ; though if one could, one might consent to make a trial of 
his — and starve belike for her pains. (She dro/s her cheek into her hand 
and stands musing .) 

Mr. Sylvester drew a deep breath and let his eyes fall, 
when suddenly a hum ran through the audience about him, 
and looking quickly up, he beheld Mr. Ensign dressed in full 


356 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


cavalier costume, standing behind the musing maiden with 
a half merry, half tender gleam upon his face, that made the 
thickly beating heart of his rival shrink as if clutched in an 
iron vise. What followed, he heard as we do the words of a 
sentence read to us from the judge’s seat. The cavalier 
spoke first and a thousand dancing colors seemed to flash in 
the merry banter that followed. 

Martino. — She muses, and on no other than myself, as I am ready to 
swear by that coy and tremulous glance. I will move her to avow it. 

( Advances .) Fair lady, greeting ! A kiss for your sweet thoughts. 

Nita. ( With a start'). — A kiss, Signior Martino? You must ac- 
knowledge that were but a sorry exchange for thoughts like mine, so if it 
please you, I will keep my thoughts and you your kiss ; and lest it should 
seem ungracious in me to give nothing upon your asking, I will bestow 
upon you my most choice good day, and so leave you to your meditations. 
( Curtseys and is about to depart .) 

Martino. — You have the true generosity, lady ; you give away what it 
costs you the dearest to part from. Nay, rumple not your lip ; it is the 
truth for all your pretty poutings ! Convince me it is not. 

Nita. — Your pardon, but that would take words, and words would 
take time, and time given to one of your persuasion would refute all my 
arguments on the face of them. ( Still retreating .) 

Martino. — Well, lady, since it is your pleasure to be consistent, rather 
than happy, adieu. Had you stayed but as long as the bee pauses on an 
oleander blossom, you would have heard — 

Nita. — Buzzing, signior ? 

Martino. — Yes, if by that word you would denominate vows of con- 
stancy and devotion. For I do greatly love you, and would tell you so. 

Nita. — And for that you expect me to linger ! as though vows were 
new to my ears, and words of love as strange to my understanding as 
tropical birds to the eyes of a Norseman. 

Martino , — If you do love me, you will linger. 

Nita. — Yet if I do, (Slowly advancing) be assured it is from some othei 
motive than love. 

Martino. — So it be not from hate I am contented. 


FROM A TO Z. 357 

Nita. — To be contented with little, proves you a man of much virtue. 

Martino. — When I have you, I am contented with much. 

Nita. — That when is a wise insertion, signior ; it saves you from shame 
end me from anger. — Hark ! some one calls. 

Martino. — None other but the wind ; it is a kindly breeze, and grieves 
o hear how harsh a pretty maiden can be to the lover who adores her. 

Nita. — Please your worship, I do not own a lover. 

Martino. — Then mend your poverty, and accept one. 

Nita. — I am no beggar to accept of alms. 

Martino. — In this case, he who offers is the beggar. 

Nita. — I am too young to wear a jewel of so much pretension. 

Martino. — Time is a cure for youth, and marriage a happy speeder of 
time. 

Nita. — But youth needs no cure, and if marriage speedeth time, I’ll 
live a maid and die one. The days run swift enough without goading, 
Signior Martino. 

Martino. — But lady — 

Nita. — Nay, your tongue will outstrip time, if you put not a curb upon 
it. In faith, signior, I would not seem rude, but if in your courtesy you 
would consent to woo some other maiden to day, why I would strive and 
bear it. 

Martino. — When I stoop to woo any other lady than thee, the moon 
shall hide its face from the earth, and shine upon it no more. 

Nita. — Your thoughts are daring in their flight to-day. 

Martino. — They are in search of your love. 

Nita. — Alack, your wings will fail. 

Martino. — Ay, when they reach their goal. 

Nita. — Dost think to reach it ? 

Martino. — Shall I not, lady ? 

Nita. — 'Tis hard to believe it possible, yet who can tell ? You are 
not so handsome, signior, that one would die for you. 

Martino. — No, lady ; but what goes to make other men’s faces fair, 
goes to make my heart great. The virtue of my manhood rests in the 
fact that I love you. 

Nita. — Faith ! so in some others. ’Tis the common fault of the gal 
lants, I find. If that is all — 

Martino. — But I will always love you, even unto death. 

Nita. — I ioubt it not, so death come soon enough. 


358 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Martino. ( Taps his poiniard with his hand).— Would you have I 4 
come now, and so prove me true to my word ? 

Nita. {Demurely). — I am no judge, to utter the doom that your pre- 
emption merits. 

Martino. — Your looks speak doom, and your sweet lips hide a sword 
aeener than that of justice. 

Nita. — Have you tried them, signior, that you speak so knowingly 
concerning them? ( Retreating .) Your words, methinks, are somewhat like 
your kisses, all breath and no substance. 

Martino. — Lady ! sweet one ! {Follows her.) 

Nita. — Nay, I am gone. {Exit.) 

Martino. — I were of the fools’ fold, did I fail to follow at a beck so 
gentle. {Exit.) 

That was not all, but it was all that Mr. Sylvester heard. 
Hastily retreating, he went out into the corridor and ere long 
found himself in the conservatory. He felt shaken ; felt 
that he could not face all this unmoved. He knew he had 
been gazing at a play ; that because this Florentine maiden 
looked at her lover with coyness, gentleness, tenderness per- 
haps, it did not follow that she, his Paula, loved the real 
man behind this dashing cavalier. But the possibility was 
there, and in his present frame of mind could not be encoun- 
tered without pain. He dared not stay where men’s eyes 
could follow him, or women’s delicate glances note the heav- 
ing of his chest. He had in the last three hours given him- 
self over so completely to hope. He realized it now though 
he would not have believed it before. With man's usual 
egotism he had felt that it was only necessary for him to 
come to a decision, to behold all else fall out according to 
his mind. He had forgotten for the nonce the power of a 
youthful lover, eager to serve, ready to wait, careful to pres» 


FROM A TO Z 


359 


his way at every advantage. He could have cursed himself 
for the folly of his delay, as he strode up and down among 
the flowering shrubs in the solitude which the attractions of 
the play created. “ Fool ! fool ! ” he muttered between his 
teeth, “ to halt on the threshold of Paradise till the door 
closed in my face, when a step would have carried me where 
— He grew dizzy as he contemplated. The goal looks never 
so fair as when just within reach of a rival’s hand. 

A vigorous clapping, followed by a low gush of music, 
woke him at last to the realization that the little drama had 
terminated. With a hasty movement he was about to return 
to the parlors, when he heard the low murmur of voices, and 
on looking up, saw a youthful couple advancing into the 
conservatory, whom at first glance he recognized for Bertram 
and Miss Stuyvesant. They were absorbed in each other, 
and believing themselves alone, came on without fear, pre- 
senting such a picture of love and deep, unspeakable joy, that 
Mr. Sylvester paused and gazed upon them as upon the sud- 
den embodiment of a cherished vision of his own imaginings. 
Bertram was speaking ordinary words no doubt, words 
suited to the occasion and the time, but his voice was at- 
tuned to the beatings of his long repressed heart, while the 
bend of his proud young head and the glance of his yearn- 
ing eye were more eloquent than speech, of the leaning of 
his whole nature in love and protection towards the dainty, 
flushing creature at his side. It was a sight to make old 
hearts young and a less happy lover sick with envy. In 
spite of his gratification at his nephew’s success, Mr. Sylves- 


3^0 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


ter’s brow contracted, and it was with difficulty he could 
subdue himself into the appearance of calm benevolence 
necessary to pass them with propriety. Had it been Paula 
and Mr. Ensign ! 

He did not know how it was that he managed to find hei 
at last. But just as he was beginning to realize that wisdom 
demanded his departure from this scene, he suddenly came 
upon her sitting with her face turned toward the crowd and 
waiting — for whom ? He had never seen her look so beau- 
tiful, possibly because he had never before allowed himself 
to gaze upon her with a lover’s eyes. She had exchanged 
her piquant Roman costume for the pearl gray satin in 
which Ona had delighted to array her, and its rich substance 
and delicate neutral tint harmonized well with the amber 
brocade of the curtain against which she sat. 

Power, passion and purity breathed in her look, and lent 
enchantment to her form. She was poetry’s unique jewel, 
and at this moment, thought rather than merriment sat upon 
her lips, and haunted her somewhat tremulous smiles. He 
approached her as a priest to his shrine, but once at her 
side, once in view of her first startled blush, stooped pas- 
sionately, and forgetting everything but the suspense at 
his heart, asked with a look and tone such as he had never 
before bestowed upon her, if the play which he had seen 
that evening had been real, or only the baseless fabric of a 
dream. 

She understood him and drew back with a look almost of 
awe, shaking her head and replying in a startled way, “ I do 


FROM A TO Z. 3O1 

not know, I dare not say, I scarcely have taker, time to 
think.” 

“Then take it,” he murmured in a voice that shook hei 
body and soul, “ for I must know, if he does not.” And 
without venturing another word, or supplying by look or 
gesture any explanation of his unexpected appearance, or as 
equally unexpected departure, he bowed before her as if she 
had been a queen instead of the child he had been wont 
in other days to regard her, and speedily left her side. 

But he had not taken two steps before he paused. Mr. 
Ensign was approaching. 

“ Mr. Sylvester ! you are worse than the old woman of 
the tale, who declaring she would not, that nothing could 
ever induce her to — did” 

“ You utter a deeper truth than you realize,” returned 
that gentleman, with a grave emphasis meant rather for her 
ears than his. “ It is the curse of mortals to overrate their 
strength in the face of great temptations. I am no excep- 
tion to the rule.” And with a second bow that included this 
apparently triumphant lover within its dignified sweep, he 
calmly proceeded upon his way, and in a few moments had 
left the house. 

Mr. Ensign, who for all his careless disposition, was 
quick to recognize depths in others, stared after his com- 
manding figure until he had disappeared, then turned and 
looked at Paula. Why did his heart sink and the lights and 
joy and promise of the evening seem to turn dark and 
shrivel to nothing before his eyes ! 


XXXIII. 


TWO LETTERS. 

“ I have no other but a woman’s reasc n, 

I think him so, because 1 think him so.” 

—Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

A woman who has submitted to the undivided attentions 
of a gentleman for any length of time, feels herself more or 
less, bound to him, whether any special words of devotion 
have passed between them or not, particularly if from sen- 
sitiveness of nature, she has manifested any pleasure in his 
society. Paula therefore felt as if her wings had been caught 
in a snare, when Mr. Ensign upon leaving her that evening, 
put a small note in her hand, saying that he would do him- 
self the pleasure of calling for his reply the next day. She 
did not need to open it. She knew intuitively the manly 
honest words with which he would be likely to offer his heart 
and life for her acceptance; yet she did open it almost as soon 
as she reached her room, sitting down in her outside wraps 
for the purpose. She was not disappointed. Every line was 
earnest, ardent, and respectful. A true love and a happy 
cheerful home awaited her if — the stupendous meaning la- 
tent in an if ! 

With folded hands lying across the white page, with 
glance fixed on the fire always kept burning brightly in 


FROM A TO Z. 


363 


the grate, she sat querying her own soul and the awful 
future. He was such a charming companion ; life had 
flashed and glimmered with a thousand lights and colors 
since she knew him ; his very laugh made her want to sing 
With him she would move in sunshiny paths, open to the 
regard of all the world, giving and receiving good. Life 
would need no veils and love no check. A placid stream 
would bear her on through fields of smiling verdure. Dread 
hopes, strange fears, uneasy doubts and vague unrests, would 
not disturb the heart that rested its faith upon his frank and 
manly bosom. A breeze blew through his life that would 
sweep all such evils from the path of her who walked in 
trust and love by his side. In trust and love ; ah ! that was 
it. She trusted him, but did she love him ? At one time she 
had been convinced that she did, else these past few weeks 
would have owned a different history. He came upon her 
so brightly amid her gloom ; filled her days with such genial 
thoughts, and drew the surface of her soul so unconsciously 
after him. It was like a zephyr sweeping over the sea ; 
every billow that leaps to follow seems to own the power of 
that passing wind. But could she think so now, since she 
had found that the mere voice and look of another man had 
power to awaken depths such as she could not name and 
scarcely as yet had been able to recognize ? that though the 
billows might flow under the genial smile of her young lover, 
the tide rose only at the call of a deeper voice and a more 
imposing presence ? 

She was a thinking spirit and recoiled from yielding too 


3<H 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


readily to any passing impulse. Love was a sacrament in 
her eyes ; something entirely too precious to be accepted in 
counterfeit. She must know the secret of her inclinations, 
must weigh the influence that swayed her, for once given 
over to earth’s sublimest passion, she felt that it would have 
power to sweep her on to an eternity of bliss or suffering. 

She therefore forced herself to probe deep into the past, 
and pitilessly asked her conscience, what her emotions had 
been in reference to Mr. Sylvester before she positively knew 
that love for her as a woman had taken the place of his 
former fatherly regard. Her blushing cheek seemed to 
answer for her. Right or wrong, her life had never been 
complete away from his presence. She was lonesome and 
unsatisfied. When Mr. Ensign came she thought her pre- 
vious unrest was explained, but the letter from Cicely de- 
scribing^ Mr. Sylvester as sick and sorrowful, had withdrawn 
the veil from the delusion, and though it had settled again 
with Mr. Sylvester’s studied refusal to accept her devotion, 
was by this evening’s betrayal utterly wrenched away and 
trampled into oblivion. ’By every wild throb of her heart at 
the sound of his voice in her ear, by every outreaching of 
her soul to enter into his every mood, by the deep sensation 
of rest she felt in his presence, and the uneasy longing that 
absorbed her in his absence, she knew that she loved Mr. 
Sylvester as she never could his younger, blither, and per- 
haps nobler rival. Each word spoken by him lay treasured 
in her heart of hearts. When she thought of manly beauty 
his face and figure started upon her from the surrounding 


FROM A TO Z. 


365 

shadows, making all romance possible and poetry the truest 
expression of the human soul. While she lived, he must 
ever seem the man of men to charm the eye, affect the heart, 
and move the soul. Yet she hesitated. Why? 

There is nothing so hard to acknowledge to ourselves as 
the presence of a blemish in the character of those we love 
and long to revere. It was like giving herself to the rack to 
drag from its hiding-place and confront in all its hideous 
deformity, the doubt which, unconfessed perhaps, had of late 
mingled with her great reverence and admiring affection for 
this not easily to be comprehended man. But in this mo- 
mentous hour she had power to do it. Conscience and self- 
respect demanded that the image before which she was 
ready to bow with such abandon, should be worthy her 
worship. She was not one who could carry offerings to a 
clouded shrine. She must see the glory shining from be- 
tween the cherubim. “ I must worship with my spirit as 
well as with my body, and how can I do that if there is a 
spot on his manhood, or a false note in his heart. If I did 
but knov7 the secret of his past ; why the prisoner sits in the 
dungeon ! He is gentle, he is kindly, he loves goodness and 
strives to lead me in the paths of purity and wisdom, and 
yet something that is not good or pure clings to him, which 
he has never been able to shake loose. I perceive it in his 
melancholy glance ; I catch its accents in his uneven tones ; 
it rises upon me from his most thoughtful words, and makes 
his taking of a vow fearfully and warningly significant. Yet 
how much he is honored by his fellow-men, and with what 


366 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


reliance cney look up to him for guidance and support M II 
I only knew the secrets of his heart ! ” thought she. 

It was a trembling scale that hung balancing in that 
young girl’s hand that night. On one side, frankness, 
cheerfulness, manly worth, honest devotion, and a home with 
every adjunct of peace and prosperity ; on the other, love, 
gratitude, longing, admiration, and a dark shadow enveloping 
all, called doubt. The scale would not adjust itself. It tore 
her heart to turn from Mr. Sylvester, it troubled her con- 
science to dismiss the thought of Mr. Ensign. The question 
was yet undecided when she rose and began putting away 
her ornaments for the night. 

What was there on her dressing-table that made her pause 
with such a start, and cast that look of half beseeching in- 
quiry at her own image in the glass ? Only another envelope 
with her name written upon it. But the way in which she 
took it in her hand, and the half guilty air with which she 
stole back with it to the fire, would have satisfied any looker- 
on I imagine, that conscience or no conscience, debate or no 
debate, the writer of these lines had gained a hold upon her 
heart, which no other could dispute. 

It was a compactly written note and ran thus : 

“ A man is not always responsible for what he does ia 
moments of great suspense or agitation. But if, upon reflec- 
tion, he finds that he has spoken harshly or acted unwisely, 
it is his duty to remedy his fault ; and therefore it is that I 
write you this little note. Paula, I love you-* not as I once 


FROM A TO Z. 


367 


did with a fatherly longing and a protective delight, but 
passionately, yearningly, and entirely, with the whole force 
of my somewhat disappointed life ; as a man loves for whom 
the world has dissolved leaving but one creature in it, and 
that a woman. I showed you this too plainly to-night. I 
have no right to startle or intimidate your sweet soul into 
any relation that might hereafter curb or dissatisfy you ; if 
you can love me freely, with no back-lookings to any 
younger lover left behind, know that naught you could 
bestow, can ever equal the world of love and feeling which I 
long to lavish upon you from my heart of hearts. But if 
another has already won upon your affections too much for 
you to give an undivided response to my appeal, then by all 
the purity and innocence of your nature, forget I have ever 
marred the past or disturbed the present by any word 
warmer than that of a father. 

“ I shall not meet you at breakfast and possibly not at 
dinner to-morrow, but when evening comes I shall look for 
my soul’s dearer and better half, or my childless manhood’s 
nearest and most cherished friend, as God pleaseth and your 
own heart and conscience shall decree. 

“ Edward Sylvester ” 

Miss Belinda was very much surprised to be awakened 
early the next morning, by a pair of loving arms clasped 
yearningly about her neck. 

Looking up, she descried Paula kneeling beside her bed 
in the faint morning light, her cheeks burning, and her eye- 


368 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


lids drooping ; and guessing perhaps how it was, started up 
from her recumbent position with an energy strongly sugges* 
tive of the charger, that smells the battle afar off. 

“What has happened?” she asked. “You look as if 
you had not slept a wink.” 

For reply Paula pulled aside the curtain at the head of 
her bed, and slipped into her hand Mr. Ensign’s letter. 
Miss Belinda read it conscientiously through, with many 
grunts of approval, and having finished it, laid it down with 
a significant nod, after which she turned and surveyed Paula 
with keen but cautious scrutiny. “ And you don’t know 
what answer to give,” she asked. 

“ I should,” said Paula, “ if — Oh aunt, you know what 
stands in my way ! I have seen it in your eyes for some 
time. There is some one else — ” 

“But he has not spoken?” vigorously ejaculated her 
aunt. 

Without answering, Paula put into her hand, with a slow 
reluctance she had not manifested before, a second little 
note, and then hid her head amid the bedclothes, waiting 
with quickly beating heart for what her aunt might say. 

She did not seem in haste to speak, but when she did, her 
words came with a quick sigh that echoed very drearily in 
the young girl’s anxious ears. “ You have been placed by 
this in a somewhat painful position. I sympathize with you, 
my child. It is very hard to give denial to a benefactor.” 

Paula’s head drew nearer to her aunt’s breast, her arms 
Ciept round her neck. “ But must I ?” she breathed. 


FROM A. TO Z. 


3&9 


Miss Belinda knitted her brows with great force, and 
stared severely at the wall opposite. “ I am sorry there is> 
any question about it,” she replied. 

Paula started up and looked at her with sudden determi* 
nation. “ Aunt," said she, “what is your objection to Mr 
Sylvester ? ” 

Miss Belinda shook her head, and pushing the girl gently 
away, hurriedly arose and began dressing with great rapidity. 
Not until she was entirely prepared for breakfast did she 
draw Paula to her, and prepare to answer her question. 

“ My objection to him is, that I do not thoroughly under- 
stand him. I am afraid of the skeleton in the closet, Paula. 
I never feel at ease when I am with him, much as I admire 
his conversation and appreciate the undoubtedly noble in- 
stincts of his heart. His brow is not open enough to satisfy 
an eye which has accustomed itself to the study of human 
nature.” 

“ He has had many sorrows ! ” Paula faintly exclaimed, 
stricken by this echo of her own doubts. 

“Yes,” returned her aunt, “and sorrow bows the head 
and darkens the eye, but it does not make the glance waver- 
ing or its expression mysterious.” 

“ Some sorrows might,” urged Paula tremuously, argu- 
ing as much with her own doubts as with those of her aunt. 
“ His have been of no ordinary nature. I have never told 
you, aunt, but there were circumstances attending Cousin 
Ona’s death that made it especially harrowing. He had a 
stormy interview with her the very morning she was killed • 


370 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


words passed between them, and he left her with a look thal 
was almost desperate. When he next saw her, she lay life- 
less and inert before him. I sometimes think that the 
shadow that fell upon him at that hour will never pass 
away.” 

“ Do you know what was the subject of their disagree- 
ment?” asked Miss Belinda anxiously. 

“ No, but I have reason to believe it had something to 
do with business affairs, as nothing else could ever arouse 
Cousin Ona into being at all disagreeable.” 

“ I don’t like that phrase, business affairs ; like charity, it 
covers entirely too much. Have you never had any doubts 
yourself about Mr. Sylvester?” 

“ Ah, you touch me to the quick, aunt. I may have had 
my doubts, but when I look back on the past, I cannot see 
as they have any very substantial foundation. Supposing, 
aunt, that he has been merely unfortunate, and I should 
live to find that I had discarded one whose heart was dark- 
ened by nothing but sorrow ? I should never forgive myself, 
nor could life yield me any recompense that would make 
amends for a sacrifice so unnecessary.” 

“ You love him, then, very dearly, Paula ? ” 

A sudden light fell on the young girl’s face. “ Hearts 
cannot tell their love,” said she, “ but since I received this 
letter from him, it has seemed as if my life hung balancing 
on the question, as to whether he is worthy of a woman’s 
homage. If he is not, I would give my life to have him so. 
The world is only dear to me now as it holds him.” 


FROM A TO Z. 


371 


Miss Belinda picked up Mr. Ensign’s letter with trem- 
bling fingers. “ I thought you were safe when the younger 
man came to woo,” said she. “ Girls, as a rule, prefer what 
is bright to what is sombre, and Mr. Ensign is truly a very 
agreeable as well as worthy young man.” 

“ Yes, aunt, and he came very near stealing my heart as 
he undoubtedly did my fancy, but a stronger hand snatched 
it away, and now I do not know what to do or how to act, so 
as to awaken in the future no remorse or vain regrets.” 

Miss Belinda opened the letters again and consulted their 
contents in a matter-of-fact way. “ Mr. Ensign proposes to 
come this afternoon for his answer, while Mr. Sylvester 
defers seeing you till evening. What if I seek Mr. Sylvester 
this morning and have a little conversation with him, which 
shall determine, for once and all, the question which so 
troubles us ? Would you not find it easier to meet Mr. En- 
sign when he comes?” 

“You talk to Mr. Sylvester, and upon such a topic ! 
Oh, I could not bear that. Pardon me, aunt, but I think I 
am more jealous of his feelings than of my own. If his 
secret can be learned in a half-hour’s talk, it must be listened 
to by no one but myself. And I believe it can,” she mur- 
mured reverently ; “ he is so tender of me he would never 
let me go blindfold into any path, concerning which I had 
once expressed anxiety. If I ask him whether there is any 
good reason before God or man why I should not give him 
my entire faith and homage, he will answer honestly, though 
it be the destruction of his hopes to do so?” 


372 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Have you such trust as that in his uprightness as * 
lover, and the guardian of your happiness ? ” 

“ Have not you, aunt? ” 

And Miss Belinda remembering his words on the occasion 
of his first proposal to adopt Paula, was forced to acknowl 
edge that she had. 

So without further preliminaries, it was agreed upon 
that Paula should refrain from making a final decision un- 
til she had eased her heart by an interview with Mr. Syl- 
vester. 

“ Meantime, you can request Mr. Ensign to wait another 
day for his answer,” said Miss Belinda. 

But Paula with a look of astonishment shook her head. 
“ Is it you who would counsel me to such a piece of coquetry 
as that?” said she. “No, dear aunt, my heart is not with 
Mr. Ensign, as you know, and it is impossible for me to 
encourage him. If Mr. Sylvester should prove unworthy of 
my affection, 1 must bear, as best I may, the loss which must 
accrue ; but till he does, let me not dishonor my woman- 
hood by allowing hope to enter, even for a passing moment, 
the breast of his rival.” 

Miss Belinda blushed, and drew her niece fondly towards 
her. “ You are right,” said she, “ and my great desire for 
your happiness has led me into error. Honesty is the no- 
blest adjunct of all true love, and must never be sacrificed to 
considerations of selfish expediency. The refusal which you 
contemplate bestowing upon Mr. Ensign, must be forwarded 
to him at once.” 


FROM A. TO Z. 


373 


And with a final embrace, in which Miss Belinda allowed 
herself to let fall some few natural tears of disappointment 
she dismissed the young girl to her task 


XXXIV. 


fAULA MAKES HER CHOICE. 

“ Good fortune then, 

To make me bless’t or cursed’st among men.’ 1 

—Merchant of Venice. 

It was evening in the Sylvester mansion. Mr. Sylvestei 
who, according to his understanding with Paula, had been 
absent from his home all day, had just come in and now 
stood in his library waiting for the coming footfall that 
should decide whether the future held for him any promise 
cf joy. 

He had never looked more worthy of a woman’s regard 
than he did that night. A matter that had been troubling 
him for some time had just been satisfactorily disposed of, 
and not a shadow, so far as he knew, lay upon his business 
outlook. This naturally brightened his cheek and lent a 
light to his eye. Then, hope is no mean beautifier, and this 
he possessed notwithstanding the disparity of years between 
himself and Paula. It was not, however, of sufficiently as- 
sured a nature to prevent him from starting at every sound 
rom above, and flushing with quite a disagreeable sense of be- 
trayal when the door opened and Bertram entered the room, 
instead of the gentle and exquisite being he had expected. 

“ Uncle, I am so full of happiness, I had to stop and 


FROM A. TO Z. 


37S 


bestow a portion of it upon you. Do you think any one 
could mistake the nature of Miss Stuyvesant’s feelings, who 
saw her last night ? ” 

“ Hardly,” was the smiling reply. “ At all events I 
have not felt like wasting much but pleasant sympathy upon 
you. Your pathway to happiness looks secure, my boy.” 

“ His nephew gave him a wistful glance, but hid his 
thought whatever it was. “ I am going to see her to-night,” 
remarked he. “ I am afraid my love is something like a 
torrent that has once burst its barrier ; it cannot rest until it 
has worked its channel and won its rightful repose.' 

“That is something the way with all love,” returned his 
uncle. “ It may be dallied with while asleep, but once 
aroused, better meet a lion in his fury or a tempest in its 
rush. Are you going to test your hope, to-night ? ” 

The young man flushed. “ I cannot say.” But in another 
moment gayly added, “ I only know that I am prepared for 
any emergency.” 

“ Well, my boy, I wish you God-speed. If ever a man 
has won a right to happiness, you are that man ; and you 
shall enjoy it too, if any word or action of mine can serve to 
advance it.” 

“ Thank you ! replied Bertram, and with a bright 
look around the apartment, prepared to take his leave. 
“ When I come back,” he remarked, with a touch of that 
manly naivete to which I have before alluded, “ I hope I 
shall not find you alone.” 

Ignoring this wish which was re-echoed somewhat toe 


376 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

deeply within his own breast for light expression, Mi 
Sylvester accompanied his nephew to the front door. 

“ Let us see what kind of a night it is,” observed he, 
stepping out upon the stoop. “ It is going to rain.” 

44 So it is,” returned Bertram, with a quick glance over- 
head ; 44 but I shall not let such a little fuss as that deter me 
from fulfilling my engagement.” And bestowing a hasty nod 
upon his uncle, he bounded down the step. 

Instantly a man who was loitering along the walk in front 
of the house, stopped, as if struck by these simple words, 
turned, gave Bertram a quick look, and then with a sly 
glance back at the open door where Mr. Sylvester still stood 
gazing at the lowering heavens, set himself cautiously to 
follow him. 

Mr. Sylvester, who was too much pre-occupied to observe 
this suspicious action, remained for a moment contemplating 
the sky ; then with an aimless glance down the avenue, dur- 
ing which his eye undoubtedly fell upon Bertram and the 
creeping shadow of a man behind him, closed the door and 
returned to the library. 

The sight of another’s joy has the tendency to either 
unduly depress the spirits or greatly to elate them. When 
Paula came into the room a few minutes later, it was to find 
Mr. Sylvester awaiting her with an expression that was 
almost radiant. It made her duty seem doubly hard, and 
she came forward with the slow step of one who goes to 
meet or carry doom. He saw, and instantly the light died 
out of his face, leaving it one blank of despair. But control- 


FROM A. TO Z. 


Ill 


ling himself, he took her cold hand in his, and looking down 
upon her with a tender but veiled regard, asked in those 
low and tremulous tones that exerted such an influence 
upon her : 

“ Do I see before me my affectionate and much to be 
cherished child, or that still dearer object of love and wor- 
ship, which it shall be the delight of my life to render truly 
and deeply happy ? ” 

“You see,” returned she, after a moment of silent emo- 
tion, “a girl without father or brother to advise her; who 
loves, or believes she does, a great and noble man, but 
who is smitten with fear also, she cannot tell why, and 
trembles to take a step to which no loving and devoted 
friend has set the seal of his approval.” 

The clasp with which Mr. Sylvester held her hand in 
his, tightened for an instant with irrepressible emotion, then 
slowly unloosed. Drawing back, he surveyed her with eyes 
that slowly filled with a bitter comprehension of her meaning. 

“ You are the only man,” continued she, with a glance 
of humble entreaty, “ that lias ever stood to me for a mo- 
ment in the light of a relation. You have been a father 
to me in days gone by, and to you it therefore seems most 
natural for me to appeal when a question comes up that 
either puzzles or distresses me. Mr. Sylvester, you have 
offered me your love and the refuge of your home ; if you 
say that in your judgment the counsel of all true friends 
would be for me to accept this love, then my hand is yours 
and with it my heart ; a heart that only hesitates because it 


373 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


would fain be sure it has the smile of heaven upon its every 
prompting.” 

“ Paula ! ” 

The voice was so strange she looked up to see if it really 
was Mr, Sylvester who spoke. He had sunk back into a 
chair and had covered his face with his hands. With a cry 
she moved towards him, but he motioned her back. 

“ Condemned to be my own executioner ! ” he muttered. 
“ Placed on the rack and bid to turn the wheel that shal 1 
wrench my own sinews ! My God, ’tis hard ! ” 

She did not hear the words, but she saw the action. 
Slowly the blood left her cheek, and her hand fell upon her 
swelling breast with a despairing gesture that would have 
smitten Miss Belinda to the heart, could she have seen it 
“I have asked too much,” she whispered. 

With a start Mr. Sylvester rose. “ Paula,” said he, in a 
stern and different tone, “ is this fear of which you speak, 
the offspring of your own instincts, or has it been engen- 
dered in your breast by the words of another ? ” 

“ My Aunt Belinda is in my confidence, if it is she to 
whom you allude,” rejoined she, meeting his glance fully 
and bravely. “ But from no lips but yours could any words 
proceed capable of affecting my estimate of you as the one 
best qualified to make me happy.” 

“ Then it is my words alone that have awakened this 
doubt, this apprehension ? ” 

“ I have not spoken of doubt,” said she, but her eyelids 
felL 


FROM A . TO 2. 


379 


u No, thank God ! ” he passionately exclaimed. “ And 
yet you feel it,” he went on more composedly. “ I have 
studied your face too long and closely not to understand 
it/' 

She put out her hands in appeal, but for once it passed 
unheeded. 

“Paula,” said he, “you must tell me just what that doubt 
is ; I must know what is passing in your mind. You say 
you love me — ” he paused, and a tremble shook him from 
head to foot, but he went inexorably on — “ it is more than 
I had a right to expect, and God knows I am grateful for the 
precious and inestimable boon, far as it is above my deserts ; 
but while loving me, you hesitate to give me your hand. 
Why ? What is the name of the doubt that disturbs that 
pure breast and affects your choice? Tell me, I must 
know.** 

“ You ask me to dissect my own heart ! ” she cried, 
quivering under the torture of his glance ; “ how can I ? 
What do I know of its secret springs or the terrors that 
disturb its even beatings? I cannot name my fear ; it has 
no name, or if it has — Oh, sir ! ” she cried in a burst of pas. 
sionate longing, “your life has been one of sorrow and dis 
appointment ; grief has touched you close, and you migh 
well be the melancholy and sombre man that all behold. I 
do not shrink from grief ; say that the only shadow that lies 
across your dungeon-door is that cast by the great and 
heart-rending sorrows of your life, and without question and 
without fear I enter that dungeon with you — ” 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


3 So 

The hand he raised stopped her. “ Paula,” cried he, 
* do you believe in repentance ? ” 

The words struck her like a blow. Falling slowly back, 
she looked at him for an instant, then her head sank on her 
jreast. 

“ I know what your hatred of sin is,” continued he. “ I 
have seen your whole form tremble at the thought of evil. 
Is your belief in the redeeming power of God as great as 
your recoil from the wrong that makes that redemption 
necessary ? ” 

Quickly her head raised, a light fell on her brow, and hei 
lips moved in a vain effort to utter what her eyes uncon- 
sciously expressed. 

“ Paula, I would be unworthy the name of a man, if with 
the consciousness of possessing a dark and evil nature, I 
strove by use of any hypocrisy or specious pretense at good- 
ness, to lure to my side one so exceptionally pure, beautiful 
and high-minded. The ravening wolf and the innocent 
lamb would be nothing to it. Neither would I for an instant 
be esteemed worthy of your regard, if in this hour of my 
wooing there remained in my life the shadow of any latent 
wrong that might hereafter rise up and overwhelm you. 
Whatever of wrong has ever been committed by me — and it 
is my punishment that I must acknowledge before your pure 
eyes that my soul is not spotless — was done in the past, and 
is known only to my own heart and the God who I reverently 
trust has long ago pardoned me. The shadow is that cl 
remorse, not of fear, and the evil, one against my own soul 


FROM A. TO Z. 


3*1 


lather than against the life or fortunes of other men. Paula, 
such sins can be forgiven if one has a mind to comprehend 
the temptations that beset men in their early struggles. I 
have never forgiven myself, but — ” He paused, looked at 
hei for an instant, his hand clenched over his heart, his 
whole noble form shaken by struggle, then said — “ forgive 
ness implies no promise, Paula ; you shall never link yoursel 
to a man who has been obliged to bow his head in shame 
before you, but by the mercy that informs that dear glance 
and t ( rembling lip, do you think you can ever grow to forgive 
me ? ” 

“ Oh,” she cried, with a burst of sobs, violent as her grief 
and shame, “ God be merciful to me, as I am merciful to 
those who repent of their sins and do good and not evil all 
the remaining days of their life.” 

“ I thought you would forgive me,” murmured he, look- 
ing down upon her, as the miser eyes the gold that has 
slipped from his paralyzed hand. “ Him whom the hard- 
hearted sinner and the hypocrite despise, God’s dearest 
lambs regard with mercy. I learned to revere God before I 
knew you, Paula, but I learned to love Him in the light 01 
your gentleness and your trust. Rise up now and let me 
wipe away your tears — my daughter.” 

She sprang up as if stung. “ No, no,” she cried, “not 
that I cannot bear that yet. I must think, I must know 
what all this means,” and she laid her hand upon her heart 
“ God surely does not give so much love for one’s undoing * 
if I were not destined to comfort a life so saddened, He 


382 THE SWORD OF' DAMOCLES. 

would have bequeathed me more pity and less — ” The 
lifted head fell, the word she would have uttered, stirred her 
bosom, but not her lips. 

It was a trial to his strength, but his firm man’s heart did 
not waver. “You do comfort me,” said he; “from e:-jdy 
morning to late night your presence is my healing and my 
help, and will always be so, whatever may befal. A daughter 
can do much, my Paula.” 

She took a step back towards the door, her eyes, dark 
with unfathomable impulses, flashing on him through the 
tears that hung thickly on her lashes. 

“ Is it for your own sake or for mine, that you make use 
of that word ? ” said she. 

He summoned up his courage, met that searching glance 
with all its wild, bewildering beauty, and responded, “ Can 
you ask, Paula ? ” 

With a lift of her head that gave an almost queenly state- 
liness to her form, she advanced a step, and drawing a 
crumpled paper from her pocket, said, “ When I went to 
my room last night, it was to read two letters, one from 
yourself, and one from Mr. Ensign. This is his, and a 
manly and noble letter it is too ; but hearts have right to 
hearts, and I was obliged to refuse his petition.” And with 
a reverent but inexorable hand, she dropped the letter on the 
burning coals of the grate at their side, and softly turned to 
leave the room. 

“ Paula ! ” With a bound the stern and hitherto forcibly 
repressed man, leaped to her side. “ My darling ! my life ! *' 


FROM A. TO Z. 


383 


and with a wild, uncontrollable impulse, he caught her fcr 
one Dreathless moment to his heart ; then as suddenly re- 
leased her, and laying his hand in reverence on her brow 
said softly, “ Now go and pray, little one ; and when you arc 
quite calm, an hour hence or a week hence whichever it may 
be, come and tell me my fate as God and the angels reveal it 
to you.” And he smiled, and she saw his smile, and went 
out of the room softly, as one who treadeth upon holy 
ground. 

Mr. Sylvester was considered by his friends and admirers 
as a proud man. If a vote had been cast among those who 
knew him best, as from what especial passion common to 
humanity he would soonest recoil, it would have been 
unanimously pronounced shame, and his own hand would 
have emphasized the judgment of his fellows. But shame 
which is open to the gaze of the whole world, differs from 
that 'which is sacred to the eyes of one human being, and that 
the. me who lies nearest the heart. 

As Paula’s retreating footsteps died away on the stairs, 
and he awoke to the full consciousness that his secret was 
shared by her whose love was his life, and whose good 
opinion had been his incentive and his pride, his first sensa- 
tion was one of unmitigated anguish, but his next, strange to 
say, that of a restful relief. He had cast aside the cloak 
he had hugged so closely to his breast these many years, and 
displayed to her shrinking gaze the fox that was gnawing at 
his vitals ; and Spartan though he was, the dew that had filled 
her loving eyes was balm to him. And not only that ; he 


384 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


had won claim to the title of true man. Her regard, if 
regard it remained, was no longer an airy fabric built upon 
a plausible seeming, but a firm structure with knowledge for 
its foundation. “ I shall not live to whisper, ‘ If she knew 
my whole life, would she love me so well? 

His first marriage had been so wholly uncongenial and 
devoid of sympathy, that his greatest longing in connection 
with a fresh contract, was to enjoy the full happiness ot 
perfect union and mutual trust ; and though he could nevei 
have summoned up courage to take her into his confidence, 
unsolicited, now that it had been done he would not have it 
undone, no, not if by the doing he had lost her confidence 
and affection. 

But something told him he had not lost it. That out of 
the darkness and the shock of this very discovery, a new and 
deeper love would spring, which having its birth in human 
frailty and human repentance, would gain in the actual what 
it lost in the ideal, bringing to his weary, suffering and 
yearning man’s nature, the honest help of a strong and 
loving sympathy, growing trust, and sweetest because wisest 
encouragement. 

It was therefore, with a growing sense of deep unfath- 
omable comfort, and a reverent thankfulness for the mercies 
of God, that he sat by the fire idly watching the rise and fall 
of the golden flames above the fluttering ashes of his rival's 
letter, and dreaming with a hallowing sense of his unworthi- 
ness, upon the possible bliss of coming days. Happiness 
in its truest and most serene sense was so new to him, it 


FROM A. TO Z. 


38s 


affected him like the presence of something strangely com* 
manding. He was awe-struck before it, and unconsciously 
bowed his head at its contemplation. Only his eyes betrayed 
the peace that comes with all great joy, his eyes and perhaps 
he faint, almost unearthly smile that flitted across his mouth, 
disturbing its firm line and making his face for all its inev* 
itable expression of melancholy, one that his mother would 
have loved to look upon. “ Paula! ” came now and then in 
a reverent, yearning accent from between his lips, and once 
a low, “ Thank God ! ” which showed that he was praying. 

Suddenly he rose ; a more human mood had set in, and 
he felt the necessity of assuring himself that it was really he 
upon whom the dreary past had closed, and a future of such 
possible brightness opened. He walked about the room 
surveying the rich articles within it, as the posssible belong- 
ings of the beautiful woman he adored ; he stood and 
pictured her as coming into the door as his wife, and before 
he realized what he was doing, had planned certain changes 
he would make in his home to adapt it to the wants of hei 
young and growing mind, when with a strange suddenness, 
the door upon which he was gazing flew back, and Bertram 
Sylvester entered just as he had come from the street. Pie 
looked so haggard, so wild, so little the picture of himself ai 
ne ventured forth a couple of hours before, that Mr. Syl- 
vester started, and forgetting his happiness in his alarm, 
asked in a tone of dismay : 

“ What has happened ? Has Miss Stuyvesant— 

Bertram’s hand went up as if his uncle had touched him 


3 86 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


upon a festering wound. “ Don’t ! ” gasped he, and advanc- 
ing to the table, sat down and buried his face for a moment 
in his arms, then rose, and summoning up a certain manly 
dignity that became him well, met Mr. Sylvester’s eye with 
forced calmness, and inquired : 

“Did you know there was a thief in our bank. Uncle 
Edward ? 1 


XXXV. 


THE FALLING OF THE SWORD. 

“ Foul deeds will rise. 

Though all the world o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.”— Hamlkt. 

Mr. Sylvester towered on his nephew with an expres- 
sion such as few men had ever seen even on his powerful 
and commanding face. 

“ What do you mean ? ” asked he, and his voice rang like 
a clarion through the room. 

Bertram trembled and for a moment stood aghast, the 
ready flush bathing his brow with burning crimson. “ I 
mean,” stammered he, with difficulty recovering himself, 
“ that when Mr. Stuyvesant came to open his private box in 
the bank to-day, that he not only found its lock had been 
tampered with, but that money and valuables to the amount 
of some twelve hundred dollars were missing from among its 
contents.” 

“ What ? ” 

The expression which had made Mr. Sylvester’s brow uo 
terrible had vanished, but his wonder remained. 

“It is impossible,” he declared. “Our vaults are too 
well watched for any such thing to occur. He has made 
some mistake ; a robbery of that nature could not take place 
without detection.” 


388 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ It would seem not, and yet the fact remains. Mr. 
Stuyvesant himself informed me of it, to-night. He is not 
a careless man, nor reckless in his statements. Some one 
has robbed the bank and it remains with us to find out 
who.” 

Mr. Sylvester, who had been standing all this while, sat 
down like a man dazed, the wild lost look on Bertram’s face 
daunting him with a fearful premonition. “ There are but 
four men who have access to the vault where the boxes are 
kept,” said he : then quickly, “ Why did Mr. Stuyvesant 
wait till to-night to speak to you ? Why did he not notify 
us at once of a loss so important for us to know.” 

The flush on Bertram’s brow slowly subsided, giving way 
to a steady pallor. “ He waited to be sure,” said he. “ He 
had a memorandum at home which he desired to consult ; 
he was not ready to make any rash statement : he is a think- 
ing man and more considerate than many of his friends are 
apt to imagine. If the lock had not been found open he 
would have thought with you that he had made some mis- 
take ; if he had not missed from the box some of its con- 
tents, he would have considered the condition of the lock 
the result of some oversight on his own part or of some mis- 
take on the part of another, but the two facts together were 
damning and could force upon him but one conclusion. 
Uncle,” said he with a straightforward look into Mr. 
Sylvester’s countenance,' “ Mr. Stuyvesant knows as well as 
we do who are the men who have access to the vaults. As 
you say, the opening of a box during business hours and 


FROM A. TO Z. 


380 

the abstracting from it of papers or valuables by any one 
who has not such access, would be impossible. Only Hop 
good, you and myself, and possibly Folger, could find 
either time or opportunity for such a piece of work ; while 
after business hours, the same four, minus Folger who con- 
tents himself with knowing the combination of the inne 
safe, could open the vaults even in case of an emergency 
Now of the four named, two are above suspicion. I might 
almost say three, for Hopgood is not a man it is easy to 
mistrust. One alone, then, of all the men whom Mr. Stuy- 
vesant is in the habit of meeting at the Bank, is open 
to a doubt. A young man, uncle, whose rising has been 
rapid, whose hopes have been lofty, whose life may or may 
not be known to himself as pure, but which in the eyes of a 
matured man of the world might easily be questioned, just 
because its hopes are so lofty and its means for attaining 
them so limited.” 

“Bertram ! ” sprang from Mr. Sylvester’s white lips. 

But the young man raised his hand with almost a com- 
manding gesture. “Hush,” said he, “no sympathy or sur- 
prise. Facts like these have to be met with silent endur- 
ance, as we walk up to the mouth of the cannon we*cannot 
evade, or bare our breast to the thrust of the bayonet gleam- 
ing before our eyes. — I would not have you think,” he some- 
what hurriedly pursued, “ that Mr. Stuyvesant insinuated 
anything of the kind, but his daughter was hot present in 
the parlor, and — ” A sigh, almost a gasp finished the sen- 


tence 


390 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Bertram ! ” again exclaimed his uncle, this time with 
some authority in his voice. “ The shock of this discovery 
has unnerved you. You act like a man capable of being sus- 
pected That is simply preposterous. One half hour’s con- 
f versation with Mr. Stuyvesant on my part will convince him, 
if he needs convincing, which I do not believe, that whoever 
is unworthy of trust in our bank, you are not the man.” 

Bertram raised his head with a gleam of hope, but in- 
stantly dropped it again with a despairing gesture that made 
his uncle frown. 

** I did not know that you were inclined to be so pusillan- 
imous,” cried Mr. Sylvester; “and in presence of a foe 
so unsubstantial as this you have conjured up almost out of 
nothing. If the bank has been robbed, it cannot be difficult 
to find the thief. I will order in detectives to-morrow. We 
will hold a board of inquiry, and the culprit shall be un- 
masked ; that is, if he is one of the employees of the bank, 
which it is very hard to believe.” 

“ Very, and which, if true, would make it unadvisable in 
us to give the alarm that any public measures taken could 
not fail to do.” 

“ Ttie inquiry shall be private, and the detectives, men 
who can be trusted to keep their business secret.” 

“ How can any inquiry be private ? Uncle, we are tread- 
ing on delicate ground, and have a task before us requiring 
great tact and discretion. If the safe had only been as- 
saulted, or there were any evidences of burglary to be 
seen . But we surely should have heard of it from some one 


FROM A. TO Z. 391 

of the men, if anything unusual had been observed. Hop- 
good would have spoken at least.” 

“Yes, Hopgood would have spoken.” 

The tone in which this was uttered made Bertram look 
up. “ You agree with me, then, that Hopgood is absolutely 
to be relied upon ? ” 

“ Absolutely.” A faint flush on Mr. Sylvester’s face lent 
force to this statement. 

“ He could not be beguiled or forced by another man to 
reveal the combination, or to relax his watch over the vaults 
entrusted to his keeping ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ lie is alone with the vaults where the boxes are kept 
for an hour or two in the early morning ! ” 

“ Yes, and has been for three years. Hopgood is honesty 
itself.” 

“ And so are Folger and Jessup and Watson,” exclaimed 
Bertram emphatically. 

“ Yes,” his uncle admitted, with equal emphasis. 

“ It is a mystery,” Bertram declared ; “ and one I fear 
that will undo me.” 

“Nonsense!” broke forth somewhat impatiently from 
Mr. Sylvester’s lips ; “ there is no reason at this time for any 
such conclusion. If there is a thief in the bank he can be 
found ; if the robbery was committed by an outsider, he may 
still be discovered. If he is not, if the mystery rests forever 
unexplained, you have your character, Bertram, a character 
as spotless as that of any of your fellows, whom we regard 


392 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


as above suspicion. A man is not going to be condemned by 
such a judge of human nature as Mr. Stuyvesant, just because 
a mysterious crime has been committed, to which the circum- 
stances of his position alone render it possible for him to be 
party. You might as well say that Jessup and Folger and 
Watson — yes, or myself, would in that case lose his confidence. 
They are in the bank, and are constantly in the habit of 
going to the vaults.” 

“ None of those gentlemen want to marry his daughter,” 
murmured Bertram. “ It is not the director I fear, but the 
father. I have so little to bring her. Only my character and 
my devotion.” 

“ Well, well, pluck up courage, my boy. I have hopes 
yet that the whole matter can be referred to some mistake 
easily explainable when once it is discovered. Mistakes, 
even amongst the honest and the judicious, are not so uncom- 
mon as one is apt to imagine. I, myself, have known of one 
which if providence had not interfered, might have led tc 
doubts seemingly as inconsistent as yours. To-morrow we 
will consider the question at length. To-night — Well, Ber- 
tram, what is it ? ” 

The young man started and dropped his eyes, which dur- 
ing the last words of his uncle had been fixed upon his face 
with strange and penetrating inquiry. “ Nothing,” said he, 
“ that is, nothing more ;” and rose as if to leave. 

But Mr. Sylvester put out his hand and stopped him. 

There is something,” said he. “ I have seen it in youi 
face ever since you entered this room. What is it ? ” 


FROM A. TO Z. 


393 


The young man drew a deep bread; and leaned back in 
his chair. Mr. Sylvester watched him with growing pallor 
“You are right,” murmured his nephew at last; “there is 
something more, and it is only justice that you should hear 
it. I have had two adventures to-night ; one quite apart 
from my conversation with Mr.. Stuyvesant. Heaven that 
watches above us, has seen fit to accumulate difficulties in 
my path, and this last, perhaps, is the least explainable and 
the hardest to encounter.” 

“ What do you allude to ? ” cried his uncle, imperatively ; 
“ I have had an evening of too much agitation to endure 
suspense with equanimity. Explain yourself.” 

“It will not take long,” said the other; “a few words 
will reveal to you the position in which I stand. Let me 
relate it in the form of a narrative. You know what a dark 
portion of the block that is in which Mr. Stuyvesant’s house 
is situated. A man might hide in any of the areas along 
there, without being observed by you unless he made some 
sound to attract your attention. I was, therefore, more 
alarmed than surprised when, shortly after leaving Mr. Stuy- 
vesant’s dwelling, I felt a hand laid on my shoulder, and 
turning, beheld a dark figure at my side, of an appearance 
calculated to arouse any man’s apprehension. He was tall, 
unkempt, with profuse beard, and eyes that glared even in 
the darkness of his surroundings, with a feverish intensity. 
'You are Mr. Sylvester,’ said he, with a look of a wild animal 
ready to pounce upon his prey. ‘Yes,’ said I, involuntarily 
stepping back, ‘ I am Mr. Sylvester.’ ‘ I want to speak tc 


394 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


you,’ exclaimed he, with a rush of words as though a stream 
had broken loose ; ‘ now, at once, on business that concerns 
you. Will you listen ? ' 

“ I thought of the only business that seemed to concern 
me then, and starting still farther back, surveyed him with 
surprise. ‘ I don’t know you,' said I ; ‘ what business can you 
have with me ? ’ ‘ Will you step into sopie place where it is 

warm and find out ? ’ he asked, shivering in his thin cloak, 
but not abating a jot of his eagerness. ‘ Go on before me, 
said I, ‘ and we will see.’ He complied at once, and in this 
way we reached Beale’s Coffee-Room, where we went in. 
‘ Now,’ said I, ‘out with what you have to say and be quick 
about it. I have no time to listen to nonsense and no heart 
to attend to it.’ His eye brightened ; he did not cast a glance 
at the smoking victuals about him, though I knew he was 
hungry as a dog. ‘ It is no nonsense,’ said he, ‘ that I have 
to communicate to you.’ And then I saw he had once been 
a gentleman. ‘ For two years and a half have I been search- 
ing for you,’ he went on, ‘ in order that I might recall to 
your mind a little incident. You remember the afternoon 
of February, the twenty-fifth, two years ago ? ’ 

“‘No,’ said I, in great surprise, for his whole counte- 
nance was flushed with expectancy. ‘ What was there about 
that day that I should remember it ? ' He smiled and bent 
his face nearer to mine. ‘ Don’t you recollect a little con- 
versation you had in a small eating-house in Dey Street, with 
a gentleman of a high-sounding voice to whom you were 
obliged continuallv to say ‘ hush ! ’ ” I stared at the man 


FROM A. TO Z. 


395 


as you may believe, with some notion of his being a wander- 
ing lunatic. 1 1 have never taken a meal in any eating-house 
in Dey Street,’ I declared, motioning to a waiter to approach 
us. The man observing it, turned swiftly upon me. ‘ Do 
you think 1 care for any such petty fuss as that ? ’ asked he, 

' indicating the rather slightly built man I had called to my 
rescue, while he covertly studied my face to observe the 
effect of his words. 

“ I started. I could not help it ; this use of an expres- 
sion almost peculiar to myself, assured me that the man 
knew me better than I supposed. Involuntarily I waved 
the waiter back and turned upon the man with an inquiring 
look. 

“ ‘ I thought you might consider it worth your while to 
listen/ said he, smiling with the air of one who has or thinks 
he has a grip upon you. Then suddenly, ‘You are a rich 
man, are you not ? a proud man and an honored. You 
hold a position of trust and are considered worthy of it , 
how would you like men to know that you once committed a 
mean and dirty trick ; that those white hands that have 
the handling of such large funds at present, have in days 
gone by been known to dip into such funds a little too 
deeply ; that, in short, you, Bertram Sylvester, cashier of the 
Madison Bank, and looking forward to no one knows what 
future honors and emoluments, have been in a position 
better suited to a felon’s cell than the trusted agent of a 
great and wealthy corporation ? ’ 

“ I did not collar him ; I was too dumb-stricken for an? 


39 6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


such display of indignation. I simply stared, feeling soma 
what alarmed as I remembered my late interview with Mr 
Stuyvesant, and considered the possibility of a plot being 
formed against me. He smiled again at the effect he had pro* 
duced, and drew me into a corner of the room where we sa 
down. ‘ I am going to tell you a story,’ said he, ‘just to show 
you what a good memory I have. One day, a year and more 
ago, I sauntered into an eating-house on Dey Street. I have 
not always been what you see me now, though to tell you 
the truth, I was but little better off at the time of which I 
speak, except that I did have a dime or so in my pocket, and 
could buy a meal of victuals — if I wished.’ And his eyes 
roamed for the first time to the tables stretching out before 
him down the room. ‘ The proprietor was an acquaintance 
of mine, and finding I was sleepy as well as hungry, let me 
go into a certain dark pantry, where I curled up amid all 
sorts of old rubbish and went to sleep. I was awakened by 
the sound of voices talking very earnestly. The closet in 
which I was hidden was a temporary affair built up of loose 
boards, and the talk of a couple of men seated against it was 
easy enough to be heard. Do you want to know what that 
conversation was ? ’ 

“ My curiosity was roused by this time and I said yes. 
If this was a plot to extort money from me, it was undeniably 
better for me to know upon just what foundations it rested. 
I thought the man looked surprised, but with an aplomb 
difficult to believe assumed, he went on to say, ‘ The voices 
gave me my only means of judging of the age, character, or 


FROM A. TO Z. 


397 


position of the men conversing, but I have a quick ear, and 
my memory is never at fault. From the slow, broken, 
nervously anxious tone of one of the men, I made up my 
mind that he was elderly, hard up, and not over scrupulous; 
he other voice was that of a gentleman, musical and yet pro- 
nounced, and not easily forgotten, as you see, sir. The first 
words I heard aroused, me and convinced me it was worth 
while to listen. They were uttered by the gentleman. ‘ You 
come to me with such a dirty piece of business ! What right 
have you to suppose I would hearken to you for an instant ! ’ 

‘ The right,’ returned the other, ‘ of knowing you have not 
been above doing dirty work in your life time.’ The partition 
creaked at that, as though one of the two had started for- 
ward, but I didn’t hear any reply made to this strange accu- 
sation. ‘ Do you think,’ the same voice went on, ‘ that I do not 
know where the five thousand dollars came from which you 
gave me for that first speculation ? I knew it when I took it, 
and if I hadn’t been sure the operation would turn out for- 
tunately, you would never have been the man you are to-day. 
It came out of funds entrusted to you, and was not the gift 
of a relative as you would have made me believe.’ ‘ Good 
heaven ! ’ exclaimed the other, after a silence that was very 
expressive just then and there, ‘and you let me — ’ ‘ Oh we 

won’t go into that,’ interrupted the less cultivated voice. 

All you wanted was a start, to make you the successful 
man you have since become. I never worried much about 
morals, and I don’t worry about them now, only when you 
gay you won’t do a thing likely to make my fortune, just 


39 ^ 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


because it is not entirely free from reproach, I say, remembei 
what I know about you, and don’t talk virtue to me.’ 

“‘I am rightly punished,’ came from the other, in a tone 
.hat proved him to be a man more ready to do a wrong 
thing than to face the accusation of it. ‘ If I ever did what 
you suppose, the repentance that has embittered all my 
success, and the position in which you have this day placed 
me, is surely an ample atonement.’ ‘ Will you do what I 
request ? ’ inquired the other, giving little heed to this ex- 
pression of misery, of which I on the contrary took special 
heed. ‘ No,’ was the energetic reply; ‘because I am not 
spotless it is no sign that I will wade into filth. I will give 
you money as I have done scores of times before, but I will 
lend my hand to no scheme which is likely to throw dis- 
credit on me or mine. Were you not connected to me in 
the way in which you are — * ‘ You would pursue the scheme,’ 
nterrupted the other ; ‘ it is because you know that I can- 
not talk, that you dare repudiate it. Well I will go to 
one — ’ ‘ You shall not,’ came in short quick tones, just such 
tones as you used to me, sir, when we first entered this room. 
‘You shall leave the country before you do anything more, 
or say anything more, to compromise me or yourself. I may 
have done wrong in my day, but that is no reason why I 
should suffer for it at your hands, tempter of youth, and 
deceiver of your own flesh and blood ! You shall never 
bring back those days to me again ; they are buried, and 
have been stamped out of sight by many an honest dealing 
since, and many as I trust before God, good and sterling 


FROM A . TO Z. 


399 


action. I have long since begun a new life ; a life of honor 
and pure, if successful, dealing. Not only my own happiness, 
but that of one who should be considered by you, depends 
upon my maintaining that life to the end, unshadowed by un 
holy remembrances, and unharrassed by any such proffers as 
you have presumed to make to me here to-day. If you want 
a few thousand dollars to leave the country, say so, but never 
again presume to offend my ears, or those of any one else we 
may know, with any such words as you have made use of to 
day.* And the spiritless creature subsided, sir, and said no 
more to that rich, honored, and successful man who was so 
sensitive to even the imputation of guilt. 

“ 1 But I am not spiritless and just where he dropped the 
affair, I took it up. ‘ Here is a chance for me to turn an 
honest penny,’ thought I, and with a deliberation little to be 
expected of me, perhaps, set myself to spot that man and 
make the most out of the matter I could. Unfortunately I 
lost the opportunity of seeing his face. I was too anxious to 
catch every word they uttered, to quit my place of conceal- 
ment till their conversation was concluded, and then I was 
too late to be sure which of the many men leaving the 
building before me was the one I was after. The waiters 
were too busy to talk, and the proprietor himself had taken 
no notice. Happily as I have before said, I never forget 
/oices ; moreover one of the two speakers had made use of 
a phrase peculiar enough to serve as a clue to his identity. 
It was in answer to some parting threat of the older man, and 
will remind you of an expression uttered by yourself an houi 


400 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


or so ago. ‘ Do you suppose I will let such a little fuss a! 
that deter me?’ It was the cue to his speech by which I 
intended to hunt out my man from amongst the rich, the 
trusted and the influential persons of this city, and when 
found, to hold him.’ 

“ ‘ And you think you have done this ? ’ said I, too con 
scious of the possible net about my feet to be simply angry. 

4 1 know it,’ said he ; ‘ every word you have uttered since we 
have been here has made me more and more certain of the 
fact. I could swear to your voice, and as to your use of that 
tell-tale word, it was not till I thought to inquire of a certain 
wide-awake fellow down town, who amongst our business 
men were in the habit of using that expression, and was told 
Mr. Sylvester of the Madison Bank, that I was enabled to 
track you. I know I have got my hand on my man at last 
and — ’ He looked down at his thread-bare coat and around 
at the tables with their smoking dishes, and left me to draw 
my own conclusion. 

“ Uncle, there are crises in life which no former experi- 
ence teaches you how to meet. I had arrived at such a one. 
Perhaps you can understand me when I say I was well nigh 
appalled. Denial of what was imputed to me might be 
wisdom and might not. I felt the coil of a deadly serpent 
about me, and knew not whether it was best to struggle or 
to simply submit. The man noted the effect he had made 
and complacently folded his arms. He was of a nervous 
organization and possessed an eye like a hungry wolf, but he 
cou'd wait. ‘This is a pretty story,’ said I at last, and I 


FROM A. TO Z. 


401 


reject it altogether. ‘ I am an honest man and have always 
been so ; you will have to give up your hopes of making 
anything out of me.’ ‘ Then you are willing,’ said he, * that 1 
should repeat this story to one of the directors of your bank, 
whom I know ? ’ 

u I looked at him ; he returned my gaze with a cold 
nonchalence more suggestive of a deep laid purpose, than 
even his previous glance of feverish determination. I imme- 
diately let my eye run over his scanty clothing and loose 
flowing hair and beard. ‘Yes, said I,’ with as much sarcasm 
as I knew how to assume, ‘ if you dare risk the consequences, 
I think I may.’ He at once drew himself up. ‘ You think,’ 
said he, ‘ that you have a commonplace adventurer to deal 
with-; that my appearance is going to testify in your favor ; 
that you have but to deny any accusation which such a 
hungry-looking, tattered wretch as I, may make, and that I 
shall be ignominiously kicked out of the presence into which 
I have forced myself ; that in short I have been building 
my castle in the air. Mr. Sylvester I am a poor devil but 
I am no fool. When I left Dey Street -on the twenty-fifth of 
February two years ago, it was with a sealed paper in my 
pocket, in which was inscribed all that I had heard on that 
day. This I took to a lawyer’s office, and not being, as 1 
have before said, quite as impecunious in those days as at 
present, succeeded in getting the lawyer, whom I took care 
should be a most respectable man, to draw up a paper to the 
effect that I had entrusted him with this statement — of 
whose contents he however knew nothing — on such a day and 


402 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


hour, to which paper a gentleman then present, consented at 
my respectful solicitation to affix his name as witness, which 
gentleman, strange to say, has since proved to be a director 
of the bank of which you are the present cashier, and conse- 
quently the very man of all others best adapted to open the 
paper whose seal you profess to be so willing to see broken.* 
“ * His name ! ’ It was all that I could say. ‘ Stuyves- 
ant,’ cried the man, fixing me with his eye in which I in vain 
sought for some signs of secret doubt or unconscious wav- 
ering. I rose ; the position in which I found myself w*as 
too overwhelming for instant decision. I needed time for 
reflection, possibly advice — from you. A resolution to 
brave the devil must be founded on something more solid 
than impulse, to hold its own unmoved. I only stopped to 
utter one final word and ask one leading question. ‘ You 
are a smart man,* said I, ‘ and you are also a villain. Your 
smartness would give you food and drink, if you exercised it 
in a manner worthy of a man, but your villainy if persisted 
in, will eventually rob you of both, and bring you to the 
prison’s cell or the hangman’s gallows. As for myself, I per- 
sist in saying that I am now and always have been an honest 
man, whatever you may have overheard or find yourself capa- 
ble of swearing to. Yet a lie is an inconvenient thing to 
have uttered against you at any time, and I may want to see 
you again ; if I do, where shall I find you ?’ He thrust his 
hand into his pocket and drew out a small slip of folded 
paper, which he passed to me with a bow that Chesterfield 
would have admired. ‘ You will find it written within,’ said 


FROM A. TO Z. 


403 


he I shall look for you any time to-morrcw, up to seven 
o’clock. At that hour the lawyer of whom I have spoken, 
sends the statement which he has in his possession to Mr. 
Stuyvesant.’ I nodded my assent, and he moved slowly 
towards the door. As he did so, his eyes fell upon a roll of 
bread lying on a counter. I at once stepped forward and 
bought it. Vile as he was, and deadly as was the snare he 
contemplated drawing about me, I could not see that wolfish 
look of hunger, and not offer him something to ease it. He 
took the loaf from my hands and bit greedily into it but 
suddenly paused, and shook his head with a look like self- 
reproach, and thrusting the loaf under his arm, turned to- 
wards the door with the quick action of one escaping. In- 
stantly, and before he was out of sight or hearing, I drew the 
attention of the proprietor to him. ‘ Do you see that man ? ’ 
I asked. ‘ He has been attempting a system of blackmail 
upon me.’ And satisfied with thus having provided a wit- 
ness able of identifying the man, in case of an emergency, I 
left the building. 

“And now you know it all,” concluded he; and the 
silence that followed the utterance of those simple words, 
was a silence that could be felt. 

“ Bertram ? ” 

The young man started from his fixed position, and his 
eyes slowly traversed toward his uncle. 

“ Have you that slip of paper which the man gave you 
before departing ? ” 


4°4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“Yes,” said he. 

“ Let me have it, if you please.” 

The young man with an agitated look, plunged his hand 
into his pocket, drew out the small note and laid it on the 
table between them. Mr. Sylvester let it lie, and again there 
was a silence. 

“ If this had happened at any. other time,” Bertram pur- 
sued, “ one could afford to let the man have his say; but 
now, just as this other mystery has come up — ” 

“ I don’t believe in submitting to blackmail,” came from 
his uncle in short, quick tones. 

Bertram gave a start. “You then advise me to leave 
him alone ? ” asked he, with unmistakable emotion. 

His uncle dropped the hand which till now he had held 
before his face, and hastily confronted his nephew. “You 
will have enough to do to attend to the other matter without 
bestowing any time or attention upon this. The man that 
robbed Mr. Stuyvesant’s box, can be found and must. It is 
the one indispensable business to which I now delegate you. 
No amount of money and no amount of diligence is to be 
spared. I rely on you to carry the affair to a successful ter- 
mination. Will you undertake the task ? ” 

“ Can you ask ? ” murmured the young man, with a 
shocked look at his uncle’s changed expression. 

“ As to this other matter, we will let it rest for to-night. 
To-morrow’s revelations may be more favorable than we 
expect. At all events let us try and get a little rest now ; I 
am sure we are both in a condition to need it.” 


FROM A. TO Z. 


405 


Bertram rose. “ I am at your command,” said he, and 
moved to go. Suddenly he turned, and the two men stood 
face to face. “ I have no wish,” pursued he, “ to be relieved 
of my burden at the expense of any one else. If it is to be 
borne by any one, let it be carried by him who is young and 
stalwart enough to sustain it.” And his hand went out in- 
voluntarily towards his uncle. 

Mr. Sylvester took that hand and eyed his nephew long 
and earnestly. Bertram thought he was going to speak, and 
nerved himself to meet with fortitude whatever might be 
said. But the lips which Mr. Sylvester had opened, closed 
firmly, and contenting himself with a mere wring of his 
nephew’s hand, he allowed him to go. The slip of paper 
remained upon the table unopened. 

That night as Paula lay slumbering on her pillow, a sound 
passed through the house. It was like a quick irrepressible 
cry of desolation, and the poor child hearing it, started, 
thinking her name had been called. But when she listened, 
all was still, and believing she had dreamed, she turned her 
face upon her pillow, and softly murmuring the name that 
was dearest to her in all the world, fell again into a peaceful 
sleep. 

But he whose voice had uttered that cry in the dreary 
emptiness of the great parlors below, slept not. 


XXXVI. 


MORNING. 

* Two maidens by one fountain’s joyous orink, 

And one was sad and one had cause for sadness.” 

Cicely Stuyvesant waiting for her father at the foot 
of the stairs, on the morning after these occurrences, was a 
pretty and a touching spectacle. She had not slept very 
well the night before, and her brow showed signs of trouble 
and so did her trembling lips. She held in her hand a letter 
which she twirled about with very unsteady fingers. The 
morning was bright, but she did not seem to observe it ; 
the air was fresh, but it did not seem to invigorate her. A 
rose-leaf of care lay on the tremulous waters of her soul, and 
her sensitive nature thrilled under it. 

** Why does he not come ? ” she whispered, looking again 
at the letter’s inscription. 

It was in Mr. Sylvester’s handwriting, and ought not to 
have occasioned her any uneasiness, but her father had in- 
timated a wish the night before, that she should not come 
down into the parlor if Bertram called, and — Her thoughts 
paused there, but she was anxious about the letter and wished 
her father would hasten. 

Let us look at the little lady She had been so brigh 


FROM A. TO Z. 


40 / 


and lovesome yesterday at this time. Never a maiden in all 
this great city of ours had shown a sweeter or more etherial 
smile. At once radiant and reserved, she flashed on the eye 
and trembled from the grasp like some dainty tropical crea~ 
lure as yet unused to our stranger clime. Her father had 
surveyed her with satisfaction, and her lover — oh, that we 
were all young again to experience that leap of the heart 
with which youth meets and recognizes the sweet perfections 
of the woman it adores ! But a mist had obscured the 
radiance of her aspect, and she looks very sad as she stands 
in her father’s hall this morning, leaning her cheek against 
the banister, and thinking of the night w*hen three years ago, 
she lingered in that very spot, and watched the form of the 
young musician go by her and disappear in the darkness of 
the night, as she then thought forever. Joy had come 
to her by such slow steps and after such long waiting. 
Hope had burst upon her so brilliantly, and with such a 
speedy promise of culmination. She thrilled as- she thought 
how short a time ago it w r as, since she leaned upon Bertram’s 
arm and dropped her eyes before his gaze. 

The appearance of her father at length aroused her. 
Flushing slightly, she held the letter towards him. 

“ A letter for you, papa. I thought you might like to 
read it before you went out.” 

Mr. Stuyvesant, who for an hour or more had been 
frowning over his morning paper with a steady pertinacity 
that left more than the usual amount of wrinkles upon his 
brow, started at the wistful tone of this announcement from 


408 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


his daughter’s lips, and taking the letter from her hand 
stepped into the parlor to peruse it. It was, as the hand- 
writing declared, from Mr. Sylvester, and ran thus : 

4 Dear Mr. Stuyvesant : 

“ I have heard of your loss and am astounded. Though 
the Bank is not liable for any accident to trusts of this na- 
ture, both Bertram and myself are determined to make every 
effort possible, to detect and punish the man who either 
through our negligence, or by means of the opportunities 
afforded him under our present system of management, has 
been able to commft this robbery upon your effects. We 
therefore request that you will meet us at the bank this 
morning at as early an hour as practicable, there to assist us 
in making such inquiries and instituting such measures, as 
may be considered necessary to the immediate attainment ol 
the object desired. 

“ Respectfully yours, 

“ Edward Sylvester.” 

** Is it anything serious ? ” asked his daughter, coming 
into the parlor and looking up into his face with a strange 
wistfulness he could not fail to remark. 

Mr. Stuyvesant gave her a quick glance, shook his head 
with some nervousness and hastily pocketed the epistle 
u Business,” mumbled he, “ business.” And ignoring the 
sigh that escaped her lips, began to make his preparations 
for going at once down town. 


FROM A. TO Z. 


409 


He was always an awkward man at such matters, and it 
was her habit to afford him what assistance she could. This 
she now did, lending her hand to help him on with his over- 
coat, rising on tip-toe to tie his muffler, and bending hei 
bright head to see that his galoshes were properly fastened ; 
her charming face with its far-away look, shining strangely 
sweet in the dim hall, in contrast with his severe and an- 
tiquated countenance. 

He watched her carefully but with seeming indifference 
till all was done and he stood ready to depart, then in an 
awkward enough way — he was not accustomed to bestow 
endearments — drew her to him and kissed her on the fore- 
head ; after which he turned about and departed without a 
word to season or explain this unwonted manifestation of 
tenderness. 

A kiss was an unusual occurrence in that confiding but 
undemonstrative household, and the little maiden trembled. 
“ Something is wrong,” she murmured half to herself half to 
the dim vista of the lonely parlor, where but a night or so ago 
had stood the beloved form of him, who, bury the thought as 
she would had become, if indeed he had not always been, 
the beginning and the ending of all her maidenly dreams : 

what ? what ? ” And her young heart swelled painfully as 
she realized like many a woman before her, that whatever 
might be her doubts, fears, anguish or suspense, nothing re- 
mained for her but silence and a tedious waiting for others 
to recognize her misery and speak. 

Meanwhile how was it with her dearest friend and confi* 


4io 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


dent, Paula ? The morning, as I have already declared, was 
bright and exceptionally beautiful. Sunshine filled the ai? 
and freshness invigorated the breeze. Cicely was blind to it 
all, but as Paula looked from her window preparatory to 
going below, a close observer might have perceived that the 
serenity of the cloudless sky was reflected in her beaming 
eyes, that peace brooded above her soul and ruled her ten- 
der spirit. She had held a long conversation with Miss Be- 
linda, she had prayed, she had slept and she had risen with 
a confirmed love in her heart for the man who was at 
once the admiration of her eyes and the well-spring of her 
deepest thoughts and wildest longings. “ I will show him so 
plainly what the angels have told me," whispered she, “ that 
he will have no need to ask.” And she wound her long locks 
into the coil that she knew he best liked and fixed a rose at 
her throat, and so with a smile on her lip went softly down 
stairs. O the timid eager step of maidenhood when drawing 
toward the shrine of all it adores ! Could those halls and 
and lofty corridors have whispered their secret, what a story 
they would have told of beating heait and tremulous glance, 
eager longings, and maidenly shrinkings, as the lovely form, 
swaying with a thousand hopes and fears, glided from land- 
ing to landing, carrying with it love and joy and peace. 
And trust ! As she neared the bronze image that had always 
awakened such vague feelings of repugnance on her part, and 
found its terrors gone and its smile assuring, she realized 
that her breast held nothing but faith in him, who may have 
sinned in his youth, but who had repented in his manhood 


FROM A. TO Z, 


411 

And now stood clear and noble in her eyes. The assurance 
was too sweet, the flood of feeling too overwhelming. With a 
quick glance around her, she stopped and flung her arms 
about the hitherto repellant bronze, pressing her young 
breast against the cold metal with a fervor that ought to have 
hallowed its sensuous mould forever. Then she hurried 
down. 

Her first glance into the dining-room brought her a 
disappointment. Mr. Sylvester had already breakfasted and 
gone ; only Aunt Belinda sat at the table. With a slightly 
troubled brow, Paula advanced to her own place at the 
board. 

“ Mr. Sylvester has urgent business on hand to-day,” 
quoth her aunt. “ I met him going out just as I came 
down.” 

Her look lingered on Paula as she said this, and if it ha<. 
not been for the servants, she would doubtless have given 
utterance to some further expression on the matter, for she 
had been greatly struck by Mr. Sylvester’s appearance and 
the sad, firm, almost lofty expression of his eye, as it met 
hers in their hurried conversation. 

“ He is a very busy man,” returned Paula simply, and 
was silent, struck by some secret dread she could not have 
explained. Suddenly she rose ; she had found an envelope 
beneath her plate, addressed to herself. It was bulky and 
evidently contained a key. Hastening behind the curtains 
of the window, she opened it. The key was to that secret 
study of his at the top of the house, which no one but him- 


412 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


self had ever been seen to enter, and the words that enwrap* 
ped it were these : 

“ If I send you no word to the contrary, and if I do not 
come back by seven o’clock this evening, go to the room of 
♦vhich this is the key, open my desk, and read what I have 
preoared for vour eves “ R. S. M 


XXXVII. 


THE OPINION OF A CERTAIN NOTED DETECTIVE. 

11 But still there clung 

One hope, like a keen sword on starting threads uphung,” 

— Rbvolt or Islam. 

41 Facts are stubborn things.’’— Elliott. 

Meanwhile Mr. Stuyvesant hasted on his way down 
town and ere long made his appearance at the bank. H° 
found Mr. Sylvester and Bertram seated in the director* 
room, with a portly smooth-faced man whose appearance wai 
at once strange and vaguely familiar. 

“A detective, sir,” explained Mr Sylvester rising with 
forced composure; “a man upon whose judgment I have 
been told we may rely. Mr. Gryce, Mr. Stuyvesant.” 

The latter gentleman nodded, cast a glance around the 
room, during which his eye rested for a moment on Bertram’s 
somewhat pale countenance, and nervously took a seat. 

“A mysterious piece of business, this,” came from the 
detective’s lips in an easy tone, calculated to relieve the 
tension of embarrassment into which the entrance of Mr 
Stuyvesant seemed to have thrown all parties. “What were 
the numbers of the bonds found missing, if you please * ” 

Mr. Stuyvesant told him. 


414 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ You are positively assured these bonds were all in the 
box when you last locked it ? ” 

“ I am.” 

“ When was that, sir ? On what day and at what hour 
of the day, if you please ? ” 

“Tuesday, at about three o’clock, I should say.” 

“ The box was locked by you ? There is no doubt about 
that fact ? ” 

“ None in the least.” 

“ Where were you standing at the time ? ” 

“ In front of the vault door. I had taken out the box 
myself as I am in the habit of doing, and had stepped there 
to put it back.” 

“ Was any one near you then ? ” 

“Yes. The cashier was at his desk and the teller had 
occasion to go to the safe while I stood there. I do not 
remember seeing any one else in my immediate vicinity.” 

“ Do you remember ever going to the vaults and not 
finding some one near you at the time or at least in full view 
of your movements? ” 

“ No.” V 

“ I have informed Mr. Gryce,” interposed Mr. Sylvestei 
with a ring in his deep voice that made Mr. Stuyvesant start 
“ that our chief desire at present is to have his judgment 
upon the all important question, as to whether this theft was 
committed by a stranger, or one in the employ and conse- 
quently in the confidence of the bank.” 

Mr. Stuyvesant bowed, every wrinkle in his face mani* 


FROM A. TO Z. 


415 

festing itself with startling distinctness as he vlowly moved 
his eyes and fixed them on the inscrutable countenance of 
the detective. 

‘You agree then with these gentlemen,” continued the 
latter who had a way of seeming more interested in every- 
thing and everybody present than the person he was address- 
ing, “that it would be difficult if not impossible for any one 
unconnected with the bank, to approach the vaults during 
business hours and abstract anything from them without de 
tection ? ” 

“ And do these gentleman both assert that ? ” queried 
Mr. Stuyvesant, with a sharp look from uncle to nephew. 

“ I believe they do,” replied the detective, as both the 
gentlemen bowed, Bertram with an uncontrollable quiver of 
his lip, and Mr. Sylvester with a deepening of the lines about 
his mouth, which may or may not have been noticed by this 
man who appeared to observe nothing. 

“ I should be loth to conclude that the robbery was com- 
mitted by any one but a stranger,” remarked Mr. Stuyves- 
ant ; “ but if these gentlemen concur in the statement you 
have just made, I am bound to acknowledge that I do not 
myself see how the theft could have been perpetrated by an 
outsider. Had the box itself been missing, it would be 
different. I remember my old friend Mr. A—, the president 
of the police department, telling me of a case where a box 
containing securities to the amount of two hundred thousand 
dollars, was abstracted in full daylight from the vaults of one 
of our largest banks ; an act requiring such daring, the 


4i 6 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


directors for a long time refused to believe it possible, until 
a detective one day showed them another box of theirs 
which he had succeeded in abstracting in the same way/ 
But the vaults in that instance were in a less conspicuous 
portion of the bank than ours, besides to approach an open 
vault, snatch a box from it and escape, is a much simpler 
matter than to remain long enough to open a box and 
choose from its contents such papers as appeared most 
marketable. If a regular thief could do such a thing, it does 
not seem probable that he would. Nevertheless the most 
acute judgment is often at fault in these matters, and I do 
not pretend to have formed an opinion.” 

The detective who had listened to these words with 
marked attention, bowed his concurrence and asked if the 
bonds mentioned by Mr. Stuyvesant were all that had been 
found missing from the bank. If any of the other boxes 
had been opened, or if the contents of the safe itself had 
ever been tampered with. 

“ The contents of the safe are all correct,” came in deep 
tones from Mr. Sylvester. “ Mr. Folger, my nephew and 
myself went through them this morning. As for the boxes I 
cannot say, many of them belong to persons travelling ; 
some of them have been left here by trustees of estates, con- 
sequently often lie for weeks in the vaults untouched. II 
however any of them have been opened, we ought to be able 
to see it. Would you like an examination made of theii 
condition ? ” 


* A fact. 


FROM A. TO Z. 


4i; 


The detective nodded. 

Mr. Sylvester at once turned to Mr. Stuyvesant. “ May 
I ask you to mention what officer of the bank you would 
like to have go to the vaults ? ” 

That gentleman started, looked uneasily about, but meet- 
ing Bertram’s eye, nervously dropped his own and muttered 
the name of Folger. 

Mr. Sylvester suppressed a sigh, sent for the paying-teller, 
and informed him of their wishes. He at once proceeded to 
the vaults. While he nvas gone, Mr. Gryce took the opportu- 
nity to make the following remark. 

“ Gentlemen,” said he, “ let us understand ourselves. 
What you want of me, is to tell you whether this robbery has 
been committed by a stranger or by some one in your 
employ. Now to decide this question it is necessary for me 
to ask first, whether you have ever had reason to doubt the 
honesty of any person connected with the bank? ” 

“ No,” came from Mr. Sylvester with sharp and shrill 
distinctness. “ Since I have had the honor of conducting the 
affairs of this institution, I have made it my business to 
observe and note the bearing and character of each and 
every man employed under me, and I believe them all to be 
honest.” 

The glance of the detective while it did not perceptibly 
move from the large screen drawn across the room at the 
back of Mr. Sylvester, seemed to request the opinions of the 
other two gentlemen on this point. 

Bertram observing it, subdued the rapid beatings of hi* 


4 l8 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

heart and spoke with like distinctness. “ I have been in the 
bank the same length of time as my uncle,” said he, “ and 
most heartily endorse his good opinion of the various persons 
in our employ.” 

“And Mr. Stuyvesant?” the immovable glance seemed 
tc say. 

“ Men are honest in my opinion till they are proved 
otherwise,” came in short stern accents from the director’s 
lips. 

The detective drew back in his chair as if he considered 
that point decided, and yet Bertram’s eye which had clouded 
at Mr. Stuyvesant’s too abrupt assertion, did not clear again 
as might have been expected. 

“ There is one more question I desire to settle,” con- 
tinued the detective, “ and that is, whether this robbery 
could have been perpetrated after business hours, by some 
one in collusion with the person who is here left in charge ? ” 

“ No ; ” again came from Mr. Sylvester, with impartial 
justice. “ The watchman — who by the way has been in the 
bank for twelve years — could not help a man to find entrance 
to the vaults. .His simple duty is to watch over the bank 
and give alarm in case of fire or burglary. It would necessi 
tate a knowledge of the combination by which the vault 
doors are opened, to do what you suggest, and that is pos- 
sessed by but three persons in the bank.” 

“ And those are ? ” 

“The cashier, the janitor, and myself.” 

He endeavored to speak calmly and without any betrayal 


FROM A. TO Z. 


419 


of the effort it caused him to utter those simple words, but a 
detective’s ear is nice and it is doubtful if he perfectly suc- 
ceeded. 

Mr. Gryce however limited himself to a muttered, humph ! 
and a long and thoughtful look at a spot on the green baize 
of the table before which he sat. 

“ The janitor lives in the building, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes, and is, as I am sure Mr. Stuyvesant will second me 
in asserting, honesty to the back-bone.” 

“ Janitors always are,” observed the detective ; then 
shortly, “ How long has he been with you ? ” 

“ Three years.” 

Another “ humph ! ” and an increased interest in the ink 
spot. 

“That is not long, considering the responsibility of his 
position.” 

“ He was on the police force before he came to us,” 
remarked Mr. Sylvester. 

Mr. Gryce looked as if that was not much of a recom- 
mendation. 

“ As for the short time he has been with us,” resumed 
the other, “ he came into the bank the same winter as my 
lephew and myself, and has found the time sufficient to earu 
the respect of all who know him.” 

The detective bowed, seemingly awed by the dignity with 
which the last statement had been uttered ; but any one who 
knew him well, would have perceived that the film of uncer- 
tainty which had hitherto dimmed the brightness of his 


420 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


regard was gone, as if in the other’s impressive manner, ii 
not in the suggestion his words had unconsciously offered, 
the detective had received an answer to some question which 
had been puzzling him, or laid his hand upon some clue 
which had till now eluded his grasp. The inquiries which 
he made haste to pursue, betrayed, however, but little of the 
tendency of his thoughts. 

“The janitor, you say, knows the combination by which 
the vault doors are opened ? ” 

“The vault doors*' emphasized Mr. Sylvester. “The 
safe is another matter ; that stands inside the vault and is 
locked by a triple combination which as a whole is not 
known to any one man in this building, not even to myself.” 

But the boxes are not kept in the safe ? ” 

“ No, they are piled up with the books in the vaults at 
the side of the safe, as you can see for yourself, if you choose 
to join Mr. Folger.” 

“ Not necessary. The janitor, then, is the only man be- 
side yourselves, who under any circumstances or for any 
reason, could get at those boxes after business hours ? ” 

“ He is.” 

“One question more. Who is the man to attend to 
those boxes ? I mean to ask, which of the men in your em- 
ploy is expected to procure a box out of the vaults when it 
is called for, and put it back in its place when its owner is 
through with it ? ” 

“ Hopgood usually does that business, the janitor of 
whom we have just been speaking. When he is upstairs oi 


FROM A . TO Z. 


42 


out of the way, any one else whom it may be convenient 
to call.” 

“ The janitor, then, has free access to the boxes at all 
times, night and day ? ” 

“ In one sense, yes, in another, no. Should he unlock 
the vaults at night, the watchman would report upon his 
proceedings.” 

“ But there must be time between the closing and open- 
ing of the bank, when the janitor is alone with the vaults ?” 

“ There is a space of two hours after seven in the morn- 
ing when he is likely to be the sole one in charge. The 
watchman goes home, and Hopgood employs himself in 
sweeping out the bank and preparing it for the business of 
the day.” 

“Are the watchman and the janitor on good terms with 
one another ? ” 

“ Very, I believe.” 

The detective looked thoughtful. “ I should like to see 
this Hopgood,” said he. 

But just then the door opened and Mr. Folger came in, 
looking somewhat pale and disturbed. “ We are in a diffi- 
culty,” cried he, stepping up to the table where they sat. “I 
have found two of the boxes unlocked ; that belonging to 
Hicks, Saltzer and Co., and another with the name of Har- 
rington upon it. The former has been wrenched apart, the 
latter opened with some sort of instrument. Would you like 
to see them, sir? ” This to Mr. Sylvester. 

With a start that gentleman rose, and as suddenly re- 


422 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


seated himself. “ Yes,” returned he, carefully avoiding hii 
nephew’s eye; “bring them in.” 

“ Hicks, Saltzer and Co., is a foreign house,” remarked 
Mi. Stuyvesant to the detective, “and do not send for their 
box once a fortnight, as I have heard Mr. Sylvester declare. 
Mr. Harrington is on an exploring expedition and is at pres- 
ent in South America.” Then in lower tones, whose stern- 
ness was not unmixed with gloom, “ The thief seems to have 
known what boxes to go to.” 

Bertram flushed and made some passing rejoinder ; Mr. 
Sylvester and the detective alone remained silent. 

The boxes being brought in, Mr. Gryce opened them 
without ceremony. Several papers met his eye in both, but 
as no one but the owners could know their rightful contents, 
it was of course impossible for him to determine whether 
anything had been stolen from them or not. 

“Send for the New York agent of Hicks, Saltzer and 
Co.,” came from Mr. Sylvester, in short, business-like com- 
mand. 

Bertram at once rose. “ I will see to it,” said he. His 
agitation was too great for suppression, the expression of 
Mr. Stuyvesant’s eye, that in its restlessness wandered in 
every direction but his own, troubled him beyond endurance. 
With a hasty move he left the room. The cold eye of the 
detective followed him. 

“ Looks bad,” came in laconic tones from the paying teller 

“ I had hoped the affair begun and ended with my indi 
vidual loss,” muttered Mr. Stuyvesant under his breath. 


FROM A. TO Z. 423 

The stately president and the inscrutable delective still 
maintained their silence. 

Suddenly the latter moved. Turning towards Mr. Sylves- 
ter, he requested him to step with him to the window. “ I 
want to have a look at your several employees,” whispered 
he, as they thus withdrew. “ I want to see them without 
being seen by them. If you can manage to have them come 
in here one by one upon some pretext or other, I can so ar- 
range that screen under the mantel-piece, that it shall not 
only hide me, but give me a very good view of their faces in 
the mirror overhead.” 

“ There will be no difficulty about summoning the men,” 
said Mr. Sylvester. 

“And you consent to the scheme ? ” 

“ Certainly, if you think anything is to be gained by it.” 

1 am sure that nothing will be lost. And sir, let the 
cashier be present if you please ; and sir,” squeezing his 
watch chain with a complacent air, as the other dropped his 
eyes, “ talk to them about anything that you please, only let 
it be of a nature that will necessitate a sentence or more in 
reply. I judge a man as much by his voice as his expres- 
sion” 

Mr. Sylvester bowed, and without losing his self-com- 
mand, though the short allusion to Bertram had greatly 
startled him, turned back to the table where Mr. Folger was 
still standing in conversation with the director. 

“ I will not detain you longer,” said he to the paying 
teller. ” Your discretion will prevent you from speaking of 


424 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


this matter, I trust.” Then as the other bowed, added care* 
lessly, “ I have something to say to Jessup ; will you see that 
he steps here for a moment ? ” 

Mr. Folger again nodded and left the room. Instantly 
Mr. Gryce bustled forward, and pulling the screen into the 
position he thought best calculated to answer his require- 
ments, slid rapidly behind it. Mr. Stuyvesant looked up in 
surprise. 

“ I am going to interview the clerks for Mr. Gryce’s 
benefit,” exclaimed Mr. Sylvester. “ Will you in the mean- 
time look over the morning paper ? ” 

“Thank you,” returned the other, edging nervously to 
one side, “my note-book will do just as well,” and sitting 
down at the remote end of the table, he took out a book 
from his pocket, above which he bent with very well simu- 
lated preoccupation. Mr. Sylvester called in Bertram and 
then seated himself with a hopeless and unexpectant look, 
which he for the moment forgot would be reflected in the 
mirror before him, and so carried to the eye of the watchful 
detective. In another instant Jessup entered. 

What was said in the short interview that followed, is un- 
important. Mr. Jessup, the third teller, was one of those 
clear eyed, straightforward appearing men whose counten- 
ance is its own guarantee. It was not necessary to detain 
him or make him speak. The next man to come in was 
Watson, and after he had gone, two or three of the clerks, 
and later the receiving teller and one of the runners. All 
stopped long enough to insure Mr. Gryce a good view ol 


FROM A. TO Z. 


425 


their faces, and from each and all did Mr. Sylvester succeed 
in eliciting more or less conversation in response to the ques- 
tions he chose to put. 

With the disappearance of the last mentioned indi\idual, 
Mr. Gryce peeped from behind the screen. “A set of as 
honest-looking men as I wish to see ! ” uttered he with a 
frank cordiality that was scarcely reflected in the anxious 
countenances about him. “No sly-boots among them ; how 
about the janitor, Hopgood ? ” 

“ He shall be summoned at once, if you desire it,” said 
Mr. Sylvester, “I have only delayed calling him that I might 
have leisure to interrogate him with reference to his duties, 
and this very theft. That is if you judge it advisable in me 
to tamper with the subject unassisted ? ” 

“ Your nephew can help you if necessary, replied the im- 
perturbable detective. “ I should like to hear what the 
man, Hopgood, has to say for himself,” and he glided back 
into his old position. 

But Mr. Sylvester had scarcely reached out his hand to 
ring the bell by which he usually summoned the janitor, 
when the agent of Hicks, Saltzer & Co. came in. It was an 
interruption that demanded instant attention. Saluting the 
gentleman with his usual proud reserve, he drew his atten 
tion to the box lying upon the table. 

“This is yours, I believe, sir,” said he. “It was found in 
oui vaults this morning in the condition in which you now 
behold it, and we are anxious to know if its contents are all 
correct.” 


426 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ They have been handled,” returned the agent, after a 
careful survey of the various papers that filled the box, “ but 
nothing appears to be missing.” 

Three persons at least in that room breathed more easily. 

“ But the truth is,” the gentleman continued, with a half 
smile towards the silent President of the bank, “ there was 
nothing in this box that would have been of much use to 
any other parties than ourselves. If there had been a bond 
or so here, I doubt if we should have come off so fortunately 
eh ? The lock has evidently been wrenched open, and that is 
certainly a pretty sure sign that something is not right here- 
abouts.” 

“ Something is decidedly wrong,” came from Mr. Sylves- 
ter sternly ; “ but through whose fault we do not as yet 
know.” And with a few words expressive of his relief at 
finding the other had sustained no material loss, he allowed 
the agent to depart. 

He had no sooner left the room than Mr. Stuyvesant 
rose. “ Are you going to question Hopgood now ? ” queried 
he, nervously pocketing his note-book. 

“ Yes sir if you have no objections.” 

The director fidgeted with his chair and finally moved 
towards the door. “ I think you will get along better with 
him alone,” said he. “ He is a man who very easily gets 
embarrassed, and has a way of acting as if he were afraid of 
me. I will just step outside while you talk to him.” 

But Mr. Sylvester with a sudden dark flush on his brow 
hastily stopped him. “ I beg you will not," said he, with a 


FROM A. TO Z. 


42 7 


quick realization of what Hopgood might be led to say in 
the forthcoming interview, if he were not restrained by the 
presence of the director. “ Hopgood is not so afraid of you 
that he will not answer every question that is put to him 
with straightforward frankness.” And he pushed up a chair, 
with a smile that Mr. Stuyvesant evidently found himself 
unable to resist. The screen trembled slightly, but none of 
them noticed it ; Mr. Sylvester at once rang for Hopgood. 

He came in panting with his hurried descent from tne 
fifth story, his face flushed and his eyes rolling, but without 
any of the secret perturbation Bertram had observed in them 
on a former occasion. “ He cannot help us/' was the 
thought that darkened the young man’s brow as his eyes 
left the janitor, and faltering towards his uncle, fell upon the 
table before him. 

Everything was reflected in the mirror. 

“ Well, Hopgood, I have a few questions to put to you 
this morning,” said Mr. Sylvester in a restrained, but not un- 
kindly tone. 

The worthy man bowed, bestowed a salutatory roll of his 
eyes on Mr. Stuyvesant, and stood deferentially waiting. 

“ No, he cannot help us,” was again Bertram’s thought, 
and again his eyes faltered to his uncle’s face, and again fell 
anxiously before him. 

“ It has not been my habit to trouble you with inquiries 
about your management of matters under your charge,” con- 
tinued Mr. Sylvester, stopping till the janitor’s wandering 
eyes settled upon his own. “ Your conduct has always been 


428 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


exemplary, and your attention to duty satisfactory ; but 1 
would like to ask you to-day if you have observed anything 
amiss with the vaults of late ? anything wrong about the 
boxes kept there ? anything in short, that excited your sus- 
picion or caused you to ask yourself if everything was as it 
should be ? ” 

The janitor’s ruddy face grew pale, and his eye fell with 
startled inquiry on Mr. Harrington’s box that still occupied 
the centre of the table. “ No, sir,” he emphatically replied, 
has anything — ” 

But Mr. Sylvester did not wait to be questioned. “You 
have attended to your duties as promptly and conscientiously 
as usual ; you have allowed no one to go to the vaults day 
or night, who had no business there ? You have not relaxed 
your accustomed vigilance, or left the bank alone at any 
time during the hours it is under your charge ? ” 

“ No sir, not for a minute, sir ; that is — ” He stopped 
and his eye wandered towards Mr. Stuyvesant. “ Never for 
a minute, sir,” he went on, “ without I knew some one was 
in the bank, who was capable of looking after it.” 

“ The watchman has been at his post every night up to 
the usual hour ? ” 

“ Yes sir.” 

“There has been no carelessness in closing the vault 
doors after the departure of the clerks ? ” 

“ No sir.” 

“ And no trouble,” he continued, with a shade more of 
dignity, possibly because Hopgood’s tell-tale face was begin- 


FROM A. TO Z 42 g 

ning to show signs of anxious confusion, “ and no trouble in 
opening them at the proper time each morning ? ” 

“ No sir.” 

“ One question more — ” 

But here Bertram was called out, and in the momentary 
stir occasioned by his departure, Hopgood allowed himseH 
to glar.^e at the box before him more intently than he had 
hitherto presumed to do. He saw it was unlocked, and his 
hands began to tremble. Mr. Sylvester’s voice recalled him 
to himself. 

“ You are a faithful man,” said that gentleman, continu- 
ing his speech of a minute before, “and as such we are 
ready to acknowledge you ; but the most conscientious 
amongst us are sometimes led into indiscretions. Now have 
you ever through carelessness or by means of any inadver- 
tence, revealed to any one in or out of the bank, the particu- 
lar combination by which the lock of the vault-door is at 
present opened ? ” 

“ No sir, indeed no ; 1 am much too anxious, and feel 
my own responsibility entirely too much, not to preserve so 
important a secret with the utmost care and jealousy.” 

Mr. Sylvester’s voice, careful as he was to modulate it, 
showed a secret discouragement. “ The vaults then as far as 
you know, are safe when once they are closed for the night ?” 

“ Yes sir.” The janitor’s face expressed a slight degree 
oi wonder, but his voice was emphatic. 

Mr. Sylvester’s eye travelled in the direction of the 
screen. “Very well,” said he; and paused to reflect. 


430 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


In the interim the door opened for a second time. “ A 
gentleman to see Mr. Stuyvesant,” said a voice. 

With an air of relief the director hastily rose, and before 
Mr. Sylvester had realized his position, left the room and 
closed the door behind him. A knell seemed to ring its 
note in Mr. Sylvester’s breast. The janitor, released as he 
supposed from all constraint, stepped hastily forward. 

“ That box has been found unlocked,” he cried with a 
wave of his hand towards the table ; some one has been to 
the vaults, and I — Oh, sir,” he hurriedly exclaimed, disre - 
garding in his agitation the stern and forbidding look which 
Mr. Sylvester in his secret despair had made haste to as- 
sume, “ you did not want me to say anything about the 
time you came down so early in the morning, and I went out 
and left you alone in the bank, and you went to the vaults 
and opened Mr. Stuyvesant’s box by mistake, with a tooth- 
pick as you remember ? ” 

The mirror that looked down upon that pair, showed one 
very white face at that moment, but the screen that had 
trembled a moment before, stood strangely still in the silence. 

“No,” came at length from Mr. Sylvester, with a com- 
posure that astonished himself. “ I was not questioning you 
about matters of a year agone. But you might have told 
that incident if you pleased ; it was very easily explainable.’ 

“Yes sir, I know, and I beg pardon for alluding to it, but 
I was so taken aback, sir, by your questions ; I wanted to tell 
the exact truth, and I did not want to say anything that 
would hurt you with Mr. Stuyvesant ; that is if I could help 


FROM A. TO Z 


431 


it. I hope I did right; sir,” he blundered on, conscious he 
was uttering words he might better have kept to himself, bu* 
too embarrassed to know how to emerge from the difficulty 
into which his mingled zeal and anxiety had betrayed him 
M I was never a good hand at answering questions, and if any 
thing really serious has happened, I shall wish you had taken 
me at my word and dismissed me immediately after that affair. 
Constantia Maria would have been a little worse off perhaps, 
but I should not be on hand to answer questions, and — ” 

“ Hopgood ! ” 

The man started, eyed Mr. Sylvester’s white but powei- 
fully controlled countenance, seemed struck with something 
he saw there, and was silent. 

“You make too much now, as you made too much then 
of a matter that having its sole ground in a mistake, is, as I 
say, easily explainable. This affair which has come up now, 
is not so clear. Three of the boxes have been opened, and 
from one certain valuables have been taken. Can you give 
me any information that will assist us in our search after the 
culprit ? ” 

“No sir.” The tone was quite humble, Hopgood drew 
back unconsciously towards the door. 

“As for the mistake of a year ago to which you have 
seen proper to allude, I shall myself take pains to inform 
Mr. Stuyvesant of it, since it has made such an impression 
upon you that it trammels your honesty and makes you con- 
sider it at all necessary to be anxious about it at this time.” 

And Hopgood unused :o sarcasm from those lips, drew 


432 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


himself together, and with one more agitated look at the bo* 
on the table, sidled awkwardly from the room. Mr. Sylves* 
ter at once advanced to the screen which he hastily pushed 
aside. “Well, sir,” said he, meeting the detective’s wavering 
eye and forcing him to return his look, “ you have now 
seen the various employees of the bank and heard most of 
them converse. Is there anything more you would like to 
inquire into before giving us the opinion I requested ? ” 

“No sir,” said the detective, coming forward, but very 
slowly and somewhat hesitatingly for him. “ I think I am 
ready to say — ” 

Here the door opened, and Mr. Stuyvesant returned. 
The detective drew a breath of relief and repeated his words 
with a business-like assurance. “ I think I am ready to say, 
that from the nature of the theft and the mysterious manner 
in which it has been perpetrated, suspicion undoubtedly 
points to some one connected with the bank. That is all 
that you require of me to-day ? ” he added, with a bow of 
some formality in the direction of Mr. Sylvester. 

“Yes,” was the short reply. But in an instant a change 
passed over the stately form of the speaker. Advancing to 
Mr. Gryce, he confronted him with a countenance almost 
majestic in its severity, and somewhat severely remarked, 
“ This is a serious charge to bring against men whose counte- 
nances you yourself have denominated as honest. Are we 
to believe you have fully considered the question, and real- 
ize the importance of what you say ? ” 

“ Mr. Sylvester,” replied the detective, with great self 


FROM A. TO Z. 


433 


possession and some dignity, “ a man who is brought e's ery 
day of his life into positions where the least turning of a hair 
will sink a man or save him, learns to weigh his words, be* 
fore he speaks even in such informal inquiries as these.” 

Mr. Sylvester bowed and turned towards Mr. Stuyvesant 
u Is there any further action you would like to have taken 
in regard to this matter to-day ? ” he asked, without a trem- 
ble in his voice. 

With a glance at the half open box of the absent Mi 
Harrington, the agitated director slowly shook his head. 
“ We must have time to think,” said he. 

Mr. Gryce at once took up his hat. “ If the charge im- 
plied in my opinion strikes you, gentlemen, as serious, you 
must at least acknowledge that your own judgment does not 
greatly differ from mine, or why such unnecessary agitation 
in regard to a loss so petty, by a gentleman worth as we are 
told his millions.” And with this passing shot, to which 
neither of his auditors responded, he made his final obei- 
sance and calmly left the room. 

Mr. Sylvester and Mr. Stuyvesant slowly. confronted one 
another. 

“ The man speaks the truth,” said the former. “ You at 
least suspect some one in the bank, Mr. Stuyvesant ? ” 

“ I have no wish to,” hastily returned the other, “ but 
facts—” 

“ Would facts of this nature have any weight with you 
against the unspotted character of a man never known bj 
you to meditate, much less commit a dishonest action ? ” 


434 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ No ; yet facts are facts, and if it is proved that soncu 
one in our employ has perpetrated a theft, the mind will un- 
consciously ask who, and remain uneasy till it is satisfied." 

“ Aid if it never is ? " 

“ It will always ask who, I suppose." 

Mr. Sylvester drew back. “ The matter shall be 
pushed," said he ; “ you shall be satisfied. Surveillance 
over each man employed in this institution ought sooner 
or later to elicit the truth. The police shall take it in 
charge." 

Mr. Stuyvesant looked uneasy. “ I suppose it is only 
justice," murmured he, “ but it is a scandal I would have 
been glad to avoid." 

“And I, but circumstances admit of no other course. 
The innocent must not suffer for the guilty, even so far as an 
unfounded suspicion would lead." 

“ No, no, of course not." And the director bustled about 
after his overcoat and hat. 

Mr. Sylvester watched him with growing sadness. “ Mr. 
Stuyvesant," said he, as the latter stood before him ready for 
the street, “ we have always been on terms of friendship, and 
nothing but the most pleasant relations have ever existed 
)etween us. Will you pardon me if I ask you to give me 
your hand in good-day ? " 

The director paused, looked a trifle astonished, but held 
out his hand not only with cordiality but very evident af- 
fection. 

“ Good day," cried he, “good day.” 


FROM A . TO Z. 


435 


. Mr. Sylvester pressed that hand, and then with a dignified 
bow, allowed the director to depart. It was his last effort at 
composure. When the door closed, his head sank on his 
hands, and life with all its hopes and honors, love and happi- 
ness seemed to die within him. 

lie was interrupted at length by Bertram. “ Well, 
uncle ? ” asked the young man with unrestrained emotion. 

“ The theft has been committed by some one in this 
bank ; so the detective gives out, and so we are called upon 
to believe. Who the man is who has caused us all this 
misery, neither he, nor you, nor I, nor any one, is likely to 
very soon determine. Meantime — ” 

“ Well ? ” cried Bertram anxiously, after a moment of 
suspense. 

“ Meantime, courage ! ” his uncle resumed with forced 
cheerfulness. 

But as he was leaving the bank he came up to Bertram, 
and laying his hand on his shoulder, quietly said : 

“ I want you to go immediately to my house upon leav- 
ing here. I may not be back till midnight, and Miss Fair- 
child may need the comfort of your presence. Will you do 
it, Bertram ? ” 

“Uncle! I — ” 

“ Hush ! you will comfort me best by doing what I ask. 
May I rely upon you ? ” 

“Always." 

“ That is enough.” 

And with just a final look, the two gentlemen parted, and 


43 « 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES 


the shadow which had rested all day upon the bank, deep- 
ened over Bertram’s head like a pall. 

It was not lifted by the sight of Hopgood stealing a few 
minutes later towards the door by which his uncle had 
departed, his face pale, and his eyes fixed in a stare, that 
bespoke some deep and moving determination. 


XXXVIII. 


blue-beard’s chamber. 

“ Present fears 

Are less than horrible imaginings.”— Macbkth. 

Clarence Ensign was not surprised at the refusal he 
received from Paula. He had realized from the first that 
the love of this beautiful woman would be difficult to ob- 
tain, even if no rival with more powerful inducements than 
his own, should chance to cross his path. She was one who 
could be won to give friendship, consideration, and sym- 
pathy without stint ; but from the very fact that she could so 
easily be induced to grant these, he foresaw the improbabil- 
ity, or at least the difficulty of enticing her to yield more. 
A woman whose hand warms towards the other sex in ready 
friendship, is the last to succumb to the entreaties of love. 
The circle of her sympathies is so large, the man must do 
well, who of all his sex, pierces to the sacred centre. The 
appearance of Mr. Sylvester on the scene, settled his fate, 
or so he believed ; but he was too much in earnest to yield 
his hopes without another effort ; so upon the afternoon of 
this eventful day, he called upon Paula. 

The first glimpse he obtained of her countenance, con- 
vinced him that he was indeed too late. Not for him that 


43 » 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


anxious pallor, giving way to a rosy tinge at the least sound 
in the streets without. Not for him that wandering glance, 
burning with questions to which nothing seemed able to 
grant reply. The very smile with which she greeted him 
was a blow ; it was so forgetful of the motive that had 
brought him there. 

“ Miss Fairchild,” he stammered, with a generous im- 
pulse to save her unnecessary pain, “ you have rejected my 
offer and settled my doom ; but let me believe that I have 
not lost your regard, or that hold upon your friendship 
which it has hitherto been my pleasure to enjoy.” 

She woke at once to a realization of his position. “ Oh 
Mr. Ensign,” she murmured, “ can you doubt my regard or 
the truth of my friendship ? It is for me to doubt ; I have 
caused you such pain, and as you may think, so ruthlessly 
and with such lack of consideration. I have been peculiarly 
placed,” she blushingly proceeded. “A woman does not 
always know her own heart, or if she does, sometimes hesi- 
tates to yield to its secret impulses. I have led you astray 
these last few weeks, but I first went astray myself. The 
real path in which I ought to tread, was only last night re- 
vealed tc me. I can say no more, Mr. Ensign.” 

“ Nor is it necessary,” replied he. “ You have chosen 
the better path, and the better man. May life abound in 
joys for you, Miss Fairchild.” 

She drew herself up and her hand went involuntarily to 
her heart. “ It is not joy I seek,” said she, “but — ” 

“ What ? ” He looked at her face lit with that heavenly 


FROM A. TO Z. 439 

gleam that visited it in rare moments of deepest emotion, 
and wondered. 

“ Joy is in seeing the one you love happy,” cried she ; 
u earth holds none that is sweeter or higher.” 

■‘Then may that be yours,” he murmured, manfully sub- 
duing the jealous pang natural under the circumstances. 
And taking the hand she held out to him, he kissed it with 
greater reverence and truer affection than when, in the first 
joyous hours of their intercourse, he carried it so gallantly to 
his lips. 

And she — oh, difference of time and feeling — did not 
remember as of yore, the noble days of chivalry, though he 
was in this moment, so much more than ever the true knight 
and the reproachless cavalier. 

For Paula’s heart was heavy. Fears too unsubstantial 
to be met and vanquished, had haunted her steps all day. 
The short note which Mr. Sylvester had written her, lay like 
lead upon her bosom. She longed for the hours to fly, yet 
dreaded to hear the clock tick out the moments that possi- 
bly were destined to bring her untold suffering and disap- 
pointment. A revelation awaiting her in Mr. Sylvester’s 
desk up stairs ? That meant separation and farewell ; for 
woids of promise and devotion can be spoken, and the 
heart that hopes, does not limit time to hours. 

With Bertram’s entrance, her fears took absolute shape. 
Mr. Sylvester was not coming home to dinner. Thence- 
forward till seven o’clock, she sat with her hand on hei 
heart, waiting. At the stroke of the clock, she rose, and 


440 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


procuring a candle from her room, went slowly up stairs 
“ Watch for me,” she had said to Aunt Belinda, “ for I fear 1 
shall need your care when I come down.” 

What is there about a mystery however trivial, that thrillj 
the heart with vague expectancy at the least lift of the con- 
cealing curtain ! As Paula paused before the door, which 
never to her knowledge had opened to the passage of any 
other form than that of Mr. Sylvester, she was conscious 
of an agitation wholly distinct from that which had hitherto 
afflicted her. All the past curiosity of Ona concerning this 
room, together with her devices for satisfying that curiosity, 
recurred to Paula with startling distinctness. It was as if 
the white hand of that dead wife had thrust itself forth from 
the shadows to pull her back. The candle trembled in her 
grasp, and she unconsciously recoiled. But the next mo- 
ment the thought of Mr. Sylvester struck warmth and deter- 
mination through her being, and hastily thrusting the key 
into the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped across 
the threshold. 

Her first movement was that of surprise. In all hei 
dreams of the possible appearance of this room, she had 
never imagined it to be like this. Plain, rude and homely, 
its high walls unornamented, its floor uncovered, its furniture 
limited to a plain desk and two or three rather uncomfoi ta- 
ble-looking chairs, it struck upon her fancy with the same 
sense of incongruity, as might the sight of a low-eaved cot- 
tage in the midst of stately palaces and lordly pleasuie- 
grounds. Setting down her candle, she folded her hands tc 


FROM A. TO Z. 


441 


still their tremblings, and slowly looked around her. This 
was the spot, then, to which he was accustomed to flee when 
oppressed by any care or harassed by any difficulty ; this 
cold, bare, uninviting apartment with its forbidding aspect 
unsoftened by the tokens of a woman’s care or presence ! 
To this room, humbler than any in her aunt’s home in Grote- 
well, he had brought all his griefs, from the day his baby lay 
dead in the rooms below, to that awful hour which saw the 
wife and mother brought into his doors and laid a cold and 
pulseless form in the midst of his gorgeous parlors ! Here 
he had met his own higher impulses face to face, and wres- 
tled with them through the watches of the night ! In this 
wilderness of seeming poverty, he had dreamed, perhaps, his 
first fond dream of her as a woman, and signed perhaps his 
final renunciation of her as the future companion of his 
life ! What did it mean ? Why a spot of so much desola- 
tion in the midst of so much that was lordly and luxurious ? 
Her fears might give her a possible interpretation, but she 
would not listen to fears. Only his words should instruct 
her. Going to the desk, she opened it. A sealed envelope 
addressed to herself, immediately met her eyes. Taking it 
out with a slow and reverent touch, she began to read the 
long and closely written letter which it contained. 

And the little candle burned on, shedding its rays over 
her bended head and upon the dismal walls about her. with 
a persistency that seemed to bring out, as in letters of fire, 
the hidden history of long ago, with its vanished days and 
its forgotten midnights. 


XXXIX. 


FROM A. TO Z. 

“ A naked human heart.”— ^ oung. 

“ My Beloved Child : 

“ So may I call you in this the final hour of our separa- 
tion, but never again, dear one, never again. When I said 
to you, just twenty-four hours ago, that my sin was buried 
and my future was clear, I spake as men speak who forget 
the justice of God and dream only of his mercy. An hour’s 
time convinced me that an evil deed once perpetrated by a 
man, is never buried so that its ghost will not rise. Do as 
we will, repent as we may, the shadowy phantom of a stained 
and unrighteous youth is never laid ; nor is a man justified 
in believing it so, till death has closed his eyes, and fame 
written its epitaph upon his tomb. 

“ Paula, I am at this hour wandering in search of the be 
•ng who holds the secret of my life and who will to-morrow 
blazon it before all the world. It is with no hope I seek 
him. God has not brought me to this pass, to release me at 
last, from shame and disgrace. Suffering and the loss of all 
my sad heart cherished, wait at my gates. Only one boon 
remains, and that is, your sympathy and the consolation of 
your regard. These, though bestowed as friends bestow 


FROM A. TO Z. 443 

them, are very precious to me ; I cannot see them go, and 
that they may not, I tell you the full story of my life. 

“ My youth was happy — my early youth, I mean. Ber- 
tram's father was a dear brother to me, and my mother a 
watchful guardian and a tender friend. At fifteen, I entered 
a bank, the small bank in Grotewell, which you ought to 
remember. From the lowest position in it, I gradually 
worked my way up till I occupied the cashier’s place ; and 
was just congratulating myself upon my prospects, when 
Ona Delafield returned from boarding-school, a young lady. 

“ Paula, there is a fascination, which some men who have 
known nothing deeper and higher, call love. I, who in those 
days had cherished but few thoughts beyond the ordinary 
reach of a narrow and somewhat selfish business mind, 
imagined that the well-spring of all romance had bubbled 
up within me, when my eyes first fell upon this regal blonde, 
with her sleepy, inscrutable eyes and bewildering smile. 
Ulysses within sound of the siren’s voice, was nothing to it. 
He had been warned of his danger and had only his own 
curiosity to combat, while I was not even aware of my peril, 
and floated within reach of this woman’s power, without mak- 
ing an effort to escape. She was so subtle in her influence, 
Pau;a ; so careless in the very exercise of her sovereignty, 
©he never seemed to command ; yet men and women obeyed 
her. Peculiarities which mar the matron, are often graces in 
a young, unmarried girl, whose thoughts are a mystery, and 
whose emotions an untried field. I believed I had found 
the queen of all beauty and when in an unguarded hour she 


444 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


betrayed her first appreciation of my devotion, I seemed to 
burst into a Paradise of delights, where every step I took, 
only the more intoxicated and bewildered me. My first 
realization of the sensuous and earthly character of my 
( happiness came with the glimpse of your child-face on that 
never-to-be-forgotten day when we met beside the river. 
Like a star seen above the glare of a conflagration, the pure 
spirit that informed your glance, flashed on my burning soul, 
and for a moment I knew that in you budded the kind of 
woman-nature which it befitted a man to seek ; that in the 
hands of such a one as you would make, should he trust his 
honor and bequeath his happiness. But when did a lover 
ever break the bonds that imprisoned his fancy, at the inspi- 
ration of a passing voice. I went back to Ona and forgot 
the child by the river. 

“ Paula, I have no time to utter regrets. This is a hard 
plain tale which I have to relate ; but if you love me still — 
if, as I have sometimes imagined, you have always loved me — 
think what my life had been if I had heeded the warning 
which God vouchsafed me on that day, and contrast it with 
what it is, and what it must be. 

“ I went back to Ona, then, and the hold which she had 
upon me from the first, took form and shape. As well as 
she could love any one, she loved me, and though she had 
offers from one or two more advantageous sources, she 
finally decided that she would risk the future and accept me, 
if her father consented to the alliance. You who are the 
niece of the man of whom 1 must now speak, may or may 


FROM A. TO Z. 


445 


not know what that meant, I doubt if you do ; he left 
Grotewell while you were a child, and any gossip concerning 
him must ever fall short of the real truth. Enough, then, 
that it meant, if Jacob Delafield could see in my future any 
promises o c success sufficient to warrant him in accepting 
me as his son-in-law, no woman living ought to hesitate to 
trust me with her hand. He was the Squire of the town 
and as such entitled to respect, but he was also something 
more, as you will presently discover. His answer to my 
plea was : 

“ 1 Well, how much money have you to show ? * 

“ Now I had none. My salary as cashier of a small coun- 
try bank was not large, and my brother’s prolonged sickness 
and subsequent death, together with my own somewhat lux- 
urious habits, had utterly exhausted it. I told him so, but 
added that I had, somewhere up among the hills, an old 
maiden aunt who had promised me five thousand dollars at 
her death ; and that as she was very ill at that time — hope- 
lessly so, her neighbors thought — in a few weeks I should 
doubtless be able to satisfy him with the sight of a sum 
sufficient to start us in housekeeping, if no more. 

“ He nodded at this, but gave me no distinct reply. * Let 
ds wait/ said he. 

“ But youth is not inclined to wait. I considered my 
c.au*e as good as won, and began to make all my prepara- 
tions accc rdingly. With a feverish impatience which is no 
sign of true love, I watched tl e days go by, and waited for, 
if I did not anticipate, the death which I fondly imagined 


446 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


would make all clear. At last it came, and I went again 
into Mr. Delafield’s presence. 

“ * My aunt las just died,’ I announced, and stood wait- 
ing for the shoi t, concise, 

“ ‘ Go ahead, then, my boy ! ’ which I certainly expected. 

“ Instead of that, he gave me a queer inexplicable smile, 
and merely said, ‘ I want to see the greenbacks, my lad. 
No color so good as green, not even the black upon white 
of ‘ I promise to pay.’ 

“ I went back to my desk in the bank, chagrined. Ona 
had told me a few days before that she was tired of waiting, 
that the young doctor from the next town was very assidu- 
ous in his attentions, and as there was no question as to his 
ability to support a wife, why — she did not finish her sen- 
tence, but the toss of her head and her careless tone at 
parting, were enough to inflame the jealousy of a less easily 
aroused nature than mine. I felt that I was in hourly dan- 
ger of losing her, and all because I could not satisfy her 
father with a sight of the few thousands which were so soon 
to be mine. 

“The reading of my aunt’s will, which confirmed my 
hopes, did not greatly improve matters. ‘ I want to see the 
money,’ the old gentleman repeated ; and I was forced to wait 
the action of the law and the settlement of the estate. It 
took longer than even he foresaw. Weeks went by and my 
poor little five thousand seemed as far from my control as on 
the day the will was read. There was some trouble, I was not 
told what, that made it seem improbable that I should reap 


FROM A. TO Z. 


447 


.he benefit of my legacy for some time. Meanwhile Ona 
accepted the attentions of the young doctor, and my chances 
of winning her, dwindled rapidly day by day. I became 
morbidly eager and insanely jealous. Instead of pursuing 
my advantage — for I undoubtedly possessed one in her own 
secret inclination towards me — I stood off, and let my rival 
work his way into her affections unhindered. I was too sore 
to interrupt his play, as I called it, and too afraid of myself 
to actually confront him in her presence. But the sight of 
them riding together one day, was more than I could endure 
even in my spirit of unresistance. ‘ He shall not have her,' 
I cried, and cast about in my mind how to bring my own 
matters into such shape as to satisfy her father and so win 
her own consent to my suit. My first thought was to borrow 
the money, but that was impracticable in a town where each 
man’s affairs are known to his neighbor. My next was to 
hurry up the settlement of the estate by appeal to my law- 
yer. The result of the latter course was a letter of many 
promises, in the midst of which a great temptation assailed 
me. 

“ Colonel Japha, of whose history you have heard more 
or less true accounts, was at that time living in the old 
mansion you took such pains to point out to me in that walk 
we took together in Grotewell. He had suffered a great an- 
guish in the flight and degradation of his only daughter, and 
though the real facts connected with her departure were not 
known in the village, he was so overcome with shame, and so 
shattered in health, he lived in the utmost seclusion, opening 


44S 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


his doors to bit few visitors, among whom I, for some unex- 
plained reason, was one. He used to say he liked me and 
saw in me the makings of a considerable man ; and I, because 
he was Colonel Japha and a strong spirit, returned his ap- 
preciation, and spent many of my bitter and unhappy hours 
in his presence. It was upon one of these occasions the 
temptation came to which I have just alluded. 

“ I had been talking about his health and the advisability 
of his taking a journey, when he suddenly rose and said, 
* Come with nae to my study.* 

“ I of course went. The first thing I saw upon entering 
was a trunk locked and strapped. ‘ I am going to Europe 
to-morrow,* said he, ‘ to be gone six months.’ 

“ I was astonished, for in that town no one presumed to 
do anything of importance without consulting his neighbors; 
but I merely bowed my congratulations, and waited for him 
to speak, for I saw he had something on his mind that he 
wished to say. At last it came out. He had a daughter, he 
said, a daughter who had disgraced him and whom he had 
forbidden his house. She was not worthy of his considera- 
tion, yet he could not help but remember her, and while he 
never desired to see her enter his doors, it was not his wish 
that she should suffer want. He had a little money which 
he had laid by and which he wished to put into my hands 
for her use, provided anything should happen to him during 
his absence. ‘She is a wanderer now,’ he cried, ‘but she 
may one day come back, and then if I am dead and gone, 
you may give it to her.’ I was .not to enter it in the bank 


FROM A. TO Z. 


449 


under his name, but regard it as a personal trust to be used 
only under such circumstances as he mentioned. 

“ The joy with which I listened to this proposal 
amounted almost to ecstacy when he went to his desk and 
brought out five one thousand dollar bills and laid them in 
my hand. ‘ It is not much,’ said he, ‘ but it will save her 
from worse degradation if she chooses to avail herself of it.’ 

“ Not much; oh no, not much, but just the sum that 
would raise me out of the pit of despondency into which I 
had fallen, and give me my bride, a chance in the world, and 
test, but not least, revenge on the rival I had now learned to 
hate. I was obliged to give the colonel a paper acknowl- 
edging the trust, but that was no hindrance. I did not 
mean to use the money, only to show it ; and long before 
the colonel could return, my own five thousand would be in 
my hands — and so, and so, and so, as the devil reasons and 
young infatuated ears listen. 

“ Colonel Japha thought I was an honest man, nor did I 
consider myself otherwise at that time. It was a chance for 
clever action ; a bit of opportune luck that it would be mad- 
ness to discard. On the day the vessel sailed which carried 
Colonel Japha out of the country, I went to Mr. Delafield 
and showed him the five crisp bank notes that represented 
as it were by proxy, the fortune I so speedily expected to 
inherit. ‘ You have wanted to see five thousand dollars 
in my hand,’ said I ; ‘ there they are.’ 

“ His look of amazement was peculiar and ought to have 
given me warning ; but I was blinded by my infatuation and 


450 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


thought it n j more than the natural surprise incident to the 
occasion. ‘ I have been made to wait a long time for yOui 
consent to my suit,’ said I ; ‘may. I hope that you will now 
give me leave to press my claims upon your daughter ? * 

“ He did not answer at once, but smiled, eying mean- 
while the notes in my hand with a fascinated gaze which in- 
stinctively warned me to return them to my pocket. But I 
no sooner made a move indicative of that resolve, than he 
thrust out his cold slim hand and prevented me. ‘ Let me 
see them,’ cried he. 

“ There was no reason for me to refuse so simple a re- 
quest to one in Mr. Delafield’s position, and though I had 
rather he had not asked for the notes, I handed them over. 
He at once seemed to grow taller. ‘ So this is your start off 
in life,’ exclaimed he. 

“ I bowed, and he let his eyes roam for a moment to my 
face. ‘ Many a man would be glad of worse,’ smiled he * 
then suavely, ‘ you shall have my daughter, sir.’ 

“ I must have turned white in my relief, for he threw his 
head back and laughed in a low unmusical way that at ail) 
other time would have affected me unpleasantly. But m) 
cnly thought then, was to get the money back and rush with 
my new hopes into the room from which came the low cease- 
less hum of his daughter’s voice. But at the first movement 
of my hand towards him, he assumed a mysterious air, and 
closing his fingers over the notes, said : 

“ ‘ These are yours, to do what you wish with, I sup 
pose ? * 


FROM A. TO Z. 


451 


“ I may have blushed, but if I did, he took no notice. 
‘ What I wish to do with them,’ returned I, ‘ is to shut them 
up in the bank for the present, at least till Ona is my wife.’ 

“ ‘ Oh no, no, no, you do not,’ came in easy, almost 
wheedling tones from the man before me. ‘You want to 
put them where they will double themselves in two months.’ 
And before I could realize to what he was tempting me, he 
had me down before his desk, showing me letters, docu- 
ments, etc., of a certain scheme into which if a man should 
put a dollar to-day, it would ‘ come out three and no mis- 
take, before the year was out. It is a chance in a thou- 
sand, ’said he ; ‘ if I had half a million I would invest it in this 
enterprise to-day. If you will listen to me and put your 
money in there, you will be a rich man before ten years 
have passed over your head.’ 

“ I was dazzled. I knew enough of such matters to stc 
that it was neither a hoax nor a chimera. He did have a 
good thing, and if the five thousand dollars had been my 
own — But I soon came to consider the question without that 
conditional. He was so specious in his manner of putting 
the affair before me, so masterful in the way he held on to 
the money, he gave me no time to think. ‘ Say the word/ 
cried he, ‘ and in two months I bring you back ten thousand 
for your five. Only two months,* he repeated, and then 
slowly/ Ona was born for luxury.’ 

“ Paula, you cannot realize what that temptation was. 
To amass wealth had never been my ambition before, but 
now everything seemed to urge it upon me. Dreams of un 


452 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


imagined luxury came to my mind as these words were 
uttered. A vision of Ona clad in garments worthy of her 
beauty floated before my eyes ; the humble home I had 
hitherto pictured for myself, broadened and towered away 
into a palace ; I beheld myself honored and accepted as the 
nabob of the town. I caught a glimpse of a new paradise, 
and hesitated to shut down the gate upon it. ‘ I will think 
of it,’ said I, and went into the other room to speak to Ona. 

“ Ah, if some angel had met me on the threshold ! If my 
mother’s spirit or the thought of your dear face could have 
risen before me then and stopped me ! Dizzy, intoxicated 
with love and ambition, I crossed the room to where she sat 
reeling off a skein of blue silk with hands that were whiter 
than alabaster. Kneeling down by her side, I caught those 
fair hands in mine. 

“‘Ona,’ I cried, ‘will you marry me? Your father has 
given his consent, and we shall be very happy.’ 

“ She bestowed upon me a little pout, and half mock- 
ingly, half earnestly inquired, ‘ What kind of a house are 
you going to put me in ? I cannot live in a cottage.’ 

“ ‘ I will put you in a palace,’ I whispered, ‘ if you will 
only say that you will be mine.’ 

‘“A palace ! Oh, I don’t expect palaces; a house like 
the Japhas’ would do. Not but what I should feel at home 
in a palace,’ she added, lifting her lordly head and looking 
beautiful enough to grace a sceptre. Then, archly for her 
And papa has given his consent ? * 

“ ‘ Yes,’ I ardently cried. 


FROM A. TO Z 


453 


‘ * Then Dr. Burton might as well go,’ she answered. ‘ I 
will trust my father's judgment, and take the palace — when 
it comes/ 

“ After that, it was impossible to disappoint her. 

“ Paula in stating all this, I have purposely confined 
/nyself to relating bare facts. You must see us as we were. 
The glamour which an unreasoning passion casts over even 
a dishonest act, if performed for the sake of winning a 
beautiful woman, is no excuse in my own soul for the evil 
to which I succumbed that day, nor shall it seem so to you. 
Bare, hard, stern, the fact confronts me from the past, that at 
the first call of temptation 1 fell ; and with this blot on my 
character, you will have to consider me — unhappy being that 
I am ! 

“ I did not realize then, however, all that I had done. 
The operation entered into by Mr. Delafield prospered, and 
in two months I had, as he predicted, ten thousand dollars 
instead of five, in my possession. Besides, I had just mar- 
ried Ona, and for awhile life was a dream of delight and 
’uxury. But there came a day when I awoke to an insight 
of the peril I had escaped by a mere chance of the die. 
The money which I had expected from my aunt’s will, turned 
out to be amongst certain funds that had been risked in 
speculation by some agent during her sickness, and irrecov- 
erably lost. The expression of her good-will was all that 
ever came to me of the legacy upon which I had so confi- 
dently relied. 

“ I was sitting with my young wife in the pretty parloi 


454 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


of our new home, when the lettei came from my lawyer an* 
nouncing this fact, and I never can make you understand 
what etfect it had upon me. The very walls seemed to 
shrivel up into the dimensions of a prison’s cell ; the face 
( that only an hour before had possessed every conceivable 
charm for me, shone on my changed vision with the allure- 
ment, but also with the unreality of a will-o’-the-wisp. All 
that might have happened if the luck, instead of being in my 
favor, had turned against me, crushed like a thunderbolt 
upon my head, and I rose up and left the presence of my 
young wife, with the knowledge at my heart that I was no 
more nor less than a thief in the eyes of God, if not in that 
of my fellow-men ; a base thief, who if he did not meet his 
fit punishment, was only saved from it by fortuitous cir- 
cumstances and the ignorance of those he had been so 
near despoiling. 

“ The bitterness of that hour never passed away. The 
streets in which I had been raised, the house which had 
been the scene of my temptation, Mr. Delafield’s face, and 
my own home, all became unendurable to me. I felt as if 
each man I met must know what I had done ; and secret as 
the transaction had been, it was long before I could enter 
the bank without a tremor of apprehension lest I should hear 
from some quarter, that my services there would no longer 
be required. The only comfort I received was in the 
thought that Ona did not know at what a cost her hand had 
been obtained. I was still under the glamour of her languid 
smiles and countless graces, and was fain to believe that not 


FROM A. TO Z. 


455 


withstanding a certain unresponsiveness and coldness in hei 
nature, her love would yet prove a compensation for the re- 
morse that I secretly suffered. 

“ My distaste for Grotewell culminated. It was too snail 
for me. The money I had acquired through the use of my 
neighbor’s funds burned in my pocket. I determined to 
move to New York, and with the few thousands I possessed, 
venture upon other speculations. But this time in all hon- 
esty. Y'es, I swore it before God and my own soul, that 
never again would I run a risk similar to that from which I 
had just escaped. I would profit by the money I had ac- 
quired, oh yes, but henceforth all my operations should be 
legitimate and honorable. My wife, who was fast developing 
a taste for ease and splendor, seconded my plans with some- 
thing like fervor, while Mr. Delafield actually went so far as 
to urge nry departure. ‘ You are bound to make a rich man,’ 
said he ‘ and must go where great fortunes are to be secured.’ 
He never asked me what became of the five thousand dollars 
I returned to Colonel Japha upon his arrival from Europe. 

“ So I came to New York. 

“ Paula, the man who loses at the outset of a doubtful 
game, is fortunate. I did not lose, I won. As if in that first 
dishonest deed of mine I had summoned to my side the aid 
of evil influences, each and every operation into which I 
entered prospered. It seemed as if I could not make a mis- 
take ; money flowed towards me from all quarters ; power 
followed, and I found myself one of the most successful and 
one of the most unhappy men in New York. There are 


456 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


some things of which a man cantiot write even to the one 
dear heart he most cherishes and adores. You have lived in 
my home, and will acquit me from saying much about hei 
who, with all her faults and her omissions, was ever kind to 
you. But some things I must repeat in order to make in- 
telligible to you the change which gradually took place with 
in me as the years advanced. Beauty, while it wins the lover, 
can never of itself hold the heart of a husband who possesses 
aspirations beyond that which passion supplies. Reckless, 
worldly and narrow-minded as I had been before the com- 
mission of that deed which embittered my life, I had become 
by the very shock that followed the realization of my wrong- 
doing, a hungry-hearted, eager-minded and melancholy-spir- 
ited man, asking but one boon in recompense for my secret 
remorse, and that was domestic happiness and the sympa- 
thetic affection of wife and children. Woman, according to 
my belief, was born to be chiefly and above all, the consoler. 
What a man missed in the outside world, he was to find 
treasured at home. What a man lacked in his own nature, 
he was to discover in the delicate and sublimated one of his 
wife. Beautiful dream, which my life was not destined to 
see realized ! 

“ The birth of my only child was my first great consola- 
tion. With the opening of her blue eyes upon my face, a 
well-spring deep as my unfathomable longing, bubbled up 
within my breast. Alas, that very consolation brought a 
hideous grief ; the mother did not love her child ; and 
another strand of the regard with which I still endeavored 


FROM A. TO Z. 


457 


to surround the wife of my youth, parted and floated away 
out of sight. To take my little one in my arms, to feel hei 
delicate cheek press yearningly to mine, to behold her sweet 
iLfantile soul develop itself before my eyes, and yet to real- 
ize that that soul would never know the guidance or sympa- 
thy of a mother, was to me at once rapture and anguish. I 
sometimes forgot to follow up a fortunate speculation, in my 
indulgence of these feelings. I was passionately the father 
as I might have been passionately the husband and the 
friend. Geraldine died ; how and with what attendant cir- 
cumstances of pain and regret, I will not, dare not state. 
The blow struck to the core of my being. I stood shaken 
before God. The past, with its one grim remembrance — a 
remembrance that in the tide of business successes and the 
engrossing affection which had of late absorbed me, had been 
well-nigh swamped from sight — rose before me like an ac- 
cusing spirit. I had sinned, and I had been punished ; I 
had sown, and I had reaped. 

“ More than that, I was sinning still. My very enjoyment 
of the position I had so doubtfully acquired, was unworthy 
of me. My very wealth was a disgrace. Had it not all been 
built upon another man’s means ? Could the very house I 
lived ir. be said to be my own, while a Japha existed in 
want ? In the eyes of the world, perhaps, yes ; in my own 
eyes, no. I became morbid on the subject. I asked myself 
what I could do to escape the sense of obligation that over- 
whelmed me. The few sums with which I had been secretly 
enabled to provide Colonel Japha during the final days of 


45S 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


his ruined and impoverished life, were not sufficient. 1 
desired to wipe out the past by some large and munificent 
return. Had the colonel been living, I should have gone to 
him, told him my tale and offered him the half of my for- 
tune ; but his death cut off all hopes of my righting myself 
in that way. Only his daughter remained, the poor, lost, 
reprobated being, whom he was willing to curse, but whom 
lie could not bear to believe suffering. I determined that 
the debt due to my own peace of mind should be paid to 
her. But how ? Where was I to find this wanderer ? How 
was I to let her know that a comfortable living awaited her 
if she would only return to her friends and home ? Consult- 
ing with a business associate, he advised me to advertise. I 
did so, but without success. I next resorted to the detec- 
tives, but all without avail. Jacqueline Japha was not to be 
found. 

“But I did not relinquish my resolve. Deliberately in 
vesting a hundred thousand dollars in Government bonds, I 
put them aside for her. They were to be no longer mine. 
I gave them to her and to her heirs as completely and irre- 
vocably, I believed, as if I had laid them in her hand and 
seen her depart with them. I even inserted them as a legacy 
to her in my will. It was a clear and definite arrangement 
between me and my own soul ; and after I had made it and 
given orders to my lawyer in Grotewcll to acquaint me if he 
ever received the least news of Jacqueline Japha, I slept in 
peace. 

“ Of the years that followed I have small need to speak 


tKUM A. TO Z. 


459 


They were the years that preceded your coming, my Paula, 
and their story is best told by what I was when we met 
again, and you made me know the sweet things of life by en- 
tering into my home. Woman as a thoughtful, tender, ele- 
vated being had been so long unknown to me ! The beauty 
of the feminine soul with its faith fixed upon high ideals, was 
one before which I had ever been ready to bow. All that 1 
had missed in my youth, all that had failed me in my matur- 
ing manhood, seemed to flow back upon me like a river. I 
bathed in the sunshine of your pure spirit and imagined that 
the evil days were over and peace come at last. 

“ A rude and bitter shock awoke me. Ona’s father, who 
had followed us to New York, and of whose somewhat 
checkered career during the past few years, I have purposely 
forborne to speak, had not been above appealing to- us for 
assistance at such times as his frequently unfortunate invest- 
ments left him in a state of necessity. These appeals were 
usually made to Ona, and in a quiet way ; but one day he 
met me on the street — it was during the second winter you 
spent in my home — and dragging me into a restaurant down 
town, began a long tale, to the effect that he wanted a few 
thousands from me to put into a certain investment, which 
if somewhat shady in its character, was very promising as to 
its results ; and gave as a reason why he applied to me for 
the money, that he knew I had not been above doing a 
wrongful act once, in order to compass my ends, and there' 
fore would not be liable to hesitate now. 

* It was the thunderbolt of my life My sin was no! 


460 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


ther. buried. It had been known to this man from the start 
With an insight for which I had never given him credit, he 
had read my countenance in the days of my early temptation, 
and guessed, if he did not know, where the five thousand 
dollars came from with which I began my career as specu 
lalor. Worse than that, he had led me on to the act by which 
he now sought to hold me. Having been the secret agent 
in losing my aunt’s money, he knew at the time that I was 
cherishing empty hopes as regarded a legacy from her, yet 
he let me dally with my expectations, and ensnare myself 
with his daughter’s fascinations, till driven mad by disap- 
pointment and longing, I was ready to resort to any means 
to gain my purpose. It was a frightful revelation to come 
to me in days when, if I were not a thoroughly honest man, 
I had at least acquired a deep and ineradicable dread of 
dishonor. Answering him I know not how, but in a way 
that while it repudiated his proposition, unfortunately ac- 
knowledged the truth of the suppositions upon which it was 
founded, I left him and went home, a crushed and disheart- 
ened man. Life which had been so long in acquiring 
cheerful hues, was sunk again in darkness ; and for days I 
could not bear the sight of your innocent face, or the sound 
of your pure voice, or the tokens of your tender and unsus- 
pecting presence in my home. But soon the very natural 
thought came to comfort me, that the sin I so deplored was 
as much dead now, as it was before I learned the fact of this 
man’s knowledge of it. That having repented and put it 
away, I was as free to accept your gentle offices and the 


FROM A. TO Z. 


461 


regard of all true men, as ever I had been ; and beguiled by 
„ this plausible consideration, I turned again to my one visible 
source of consolation, and in the diversion it offered, let the 
remembrance of this last bitter experience pass slowly from 
my mind. The fact that Mr. Delafield left town shortly after 
his interview with me, and smitten by shame perhaps, for 
.bore to acquaint us with his whereabouts or afflict us with 
his letters, may have aided me in this strange forgetful- 
ness. 

“ But other and sharper trials were in store ; trials that 
were to test me as a man, and as it proved, find me lacking 
just where I thought I was strongest. Paula, that saying of 
the Bible, ‘ Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest 
he fall,’ might have been written over the door of my house 
on that day, ten months ago, when we two stood by the 
hearthstone and talked of the temptations that beset hu- 
manity, and the charity we should show to such as succumb 
to them. Before the day had waned, my own hour had 
come ; and not all the experience of my life, not all the 
resolves, hopes, fears of my later years, not even the remem- 
brance of your sweet trust and your natural recoil from evil, 
were sufficient to save me. The blow came so suddenly * 
the call for action was so peremptory ! One moment I stood 
before the world, rich, powerful, honored, and beloved ; the 
next, I saw myself threatened with a loss that undermined 
my whole position, and with it the very consideration that 
made me what I was. But I must explain. 

“ When I entered the Madison Bank a 5 President, I gave 


462 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


up in deference to the wishes of Mr. Stuyvesant all open 
speculation in Wall Street. But a wife and home such as I 
then had, are not to be supported on any petty income ; and 
when shortly after your entrance into my home, the op- 
portunity presented itself of investing in a particularly prom- 
ising silver mine out West, I could not resist the temptation ; 
regarding the affair as legitimate, and the hazard, if such it # 
were, one that I was amply able to bear. But like most en- 
terprises of the kind, one dollar drew another after it, and I 
soon found that to make available what I had already in- 
vested, I was obliged to add to it more and more of my avail- 
able funds, until — to make myself as intelligible to you as I 
can — it had absorbed not only all that had remained to me 
after my somewhat liberal purchase of the Madison Bank 
stock, but all I could raise on a pledge of the stock itself. 
But there was nothing in this to alarm me. I had a man at 
the mine devoted to my interests ; and as the present yield 
was excellent, and the future of more promise still, I went on 
my way with no special anxiety. But who can trust a silver 
mine ? At the very point where we expected the greatest 
result, the vein suddenly gave out, and nothing prevented 
the stock from falling utterly flat on the market, but the dis- 
cretion of my agent, who kept the fact a secret, while he 
quietly went about getting another portion of the mine into 
working order. He was fast succeeding in this, and affairs 
were looking daily more promising, when suddenly an in- 
timation received by me in a bit of conversation casually 
overheard at that reception we attended together, convinced 


FROM A. TO Z. 


<03 


me that the secret was transpiring, and that if great care 
weie not taken, we should be swamped before we could 
get things into working trim again. Filled with this anxiety, 
I was about to leave the building, in order to telegraph to 
my agent, when to my great surprise the card of that very 
person was brought in to me, together with a request for an 
immediate interview. You remember it, Paula, and how I 
went out to see him ; but what you did not know then, and 
what I find some difficulty in relating now, is that his mes- 
sage to me was one of total ruin unless I could manage to 
give into his hand, for immediate use, the sum of a hundred 
thousand dollars. 

“ The facts making this demand necessary were not what 
you may have been led to expect. They had little or noth- 
ing to do with the new operations, which were progressing 
successfully and with every promise of an immediate return, 
but arose entirely out of a law-suit ‘then in the hands of a 
Colorado judge for decision, and which, though it involved 
well-nigh the whole interest of the mine, had never till this 
hour given me the least uneasiness, my lawyers having always 
assured me of my ultimate success. But it seems that not- 
withstanding all this, the decision was to be rendered in 
favor of the other party. My agent, who was a man to be 
trusted in these matters, averred that five days before, he 
had learned from most authentic sources what the decision 
was likely to be. That the judge’s opinion had been seen— 
he did not tell me how, he dared not, nor did I presume to 
question, but I have since learned that not only had the 


4t>4 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

copyist employed by the judge turned traitor, but that my 
own agent had been anything but scrupulous in the use he 
had made of a willing and corruptible instrument — and that 
f I wanted to save myself and the others connected with me 
from total and irremediable loss, I must compromise vith 
the other parties at once, who not being advised of the true 
state of affairs, and having but little faith in their own case, 
had long ago expressed their willingness to accept the sum 
of a hundred thousand dollars as a final settlement of the 
controversy. My agent, if none too nice in his ideas of right 
and wrong, was, as I have intimated, not the man to make a 
mistake ; and when to my question as to how long a time he 
would give me to look around among my friends and raise 
the required sum, he replied, ‘ Ten hours and no more,’ I 
realized my position, and the urgent necessity for immediate 
action. 

“ The remainder of the night is a dream to me. There 
was but one source from which I could hope in the present 
condition of my affairs, to procure a hundred thousand dol- 
lars ; and that was from the box where I had stowed away 
the bonds destined for the use of the Japha heirs. To bor- 
row was impossible, even if I had been in possession of 
proper securities to give. I was considered as having relin- 
quished speculation and dared not risk the friendship of Mr. 
Stuyvesant by a public betrayal of my necessity. The Japha 
bonds or my own fortune must go, and it only remained with 
me to determine which. 

“ Paula, nothing but the ingrained principle of a lifetime, 


FROM A. TO Z. 


465 


the habit of doing the honest thing without thought or hesi- 
tation, saves a man at an hour like that. Strong as I believed 
myself to be in the determination never again to flaw my 
manhood by the least action unworthy of my position as the 
guardian of trusts, earnest as I was in my recoil from evil 
and sincere as I may have been in my admiration of and 
desire for the good, I no sooner saw myself tottering between 
ruin and a compromise with conscience, than I hesitated— 
hesitated with you under my roof, and with the words we 
had been speaking still ringing in my ears. Ona’s influence, 
for all the trials of our married life, was still too strong upon 
me. To think of her as deprived of the splendor which 
was her life, daunted my very soul. I dared not contem- 
plate a future in which she must stand denuded of every- 
thing which made existence dear to her ; yet how could I do 
the evil thing I contemplated, even to save her and preserve 
my own position ! For — and you must understand this — I 
regarded any appropriation of these funds I had delegated 
to the use of the Japhas, as a fresh and veritable abuse of 
trust. They were not mine. I had given them away. Un- 
known to any one but my own soul and God, I had deeded 
them to a special purpose, and to risk them as I now pro- 
posed doing, was an act that carried me back to the days of 
my former delinquency, and made the repentance of the last 
few years the merest mockery. What if I might recover 
them hereafter and restore them to their place ; the chances 
in favor of their utter loss were also possible, and honesty 
deals not with chances. I suffered so, I had a momentary 


466 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

temptation towards suicide ; but suddenly, in the midst of the 
struggle, came the thought that perhaps in my estimate of 
Ona I had committed a gross injustice, that while she loved 
splendor seemingly more than any woman I had ever known, 
she might be as far from wishing me to retain her in it at the 
price of my own self-respect, as the most honest-hearted wife 
m the world ; and struck by the hope, I left my agent at a 
hotel and hurried home through the early morning to her 
side. She was asleep, of course, but I wakened her. It was 
dark and she had a right to be fretful, but when I whispered 
in her ear, ‘ Get up and listen to me, for our fortune is at 
stake,’ she at once rose and having risen, was her clearest, 
coldest, most implacable self. Paula, I told her my story, my 
whole story as I have told it to you here. I dropped no 
thread, I smoothed over no offence. Torturing as it was to 
my pride, I laid bare my soul before her, and then in a burst 
of appeal such as I hope never to be obliged to make use of 
again, asked her as she was a woman and a wife, to save me 
in this hour of my temptation. 

“ Paula, she refused. More than that, she expressed the 
bitterest scorn of my mawkish conscientiousness, as she 
called it. That I should consider myself as owing anything 
to the detestable wretch who was the only representative of 
the Japhas, was bad enough, but that I should go on treas- 
uring the money that would save us, was disgraceful if not 
worse, and betrayed a weakness of mind for which she had 
never given me credit. 

But Ona,’ I cried, ‘ if it is a weakness of mind, it it 


FROM A. TO Z. 467 

also an equivalent to my consciousness of right living. 
Would you have me sacrifice that ? * 

u * I would have you sacrifice anything necessary to 
preserve us in our position,’ said she ; and I stood aghast 
before an unscrupulousness greater than any I had hitherto 
been called upon to face. 

“ ‘ Ona,’ repeated I, for her look was cold, ‘ do you real- 
ize what I have been telling you? Most wives would 
shudder when informed that their husbands had perpetrated 
a dishonest act in order to win them.’ 

“ A thin strange smile heralded her reply. ‘ Most wives 
would,’ returned she, ‘ but most wives are ignorant. Did 
you suppose I did not know what it cost you to marry me ? 
Papa took care I should miss no knowledge that might be 
useful to me.’ 

“ ‘ And you married me knowing what I had done ! ' ex 
claimed I, with incredulous dismay. 

“ ‘ I married you, knowing you were too clever, or be- 
lieving you to be too clever, to run such a risk again.’ 

“ I can say no more concerning that hour. With a 
horror for this woman such as I had never before experi- 
enced for living creature, I rushed out of her presence, 
loathing the air she breathed, yet resolved to do her bidding. 
Can you understand a man hating a woman, yet obeying her* 
despising her, yet yielding? I cannot, now , but that day 
there seemed no alternative. Either I must kill myself or 
follow her wishes. I chose to do the latter, forgetting that 
God can kill, and that, too, whom and when He pleases. 


468 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


* Going down to the bank, I procured the bonds from 
my box in the safe. I felt like a thief, and the manner in 
which it was done was unwittingly suggestive of crime, but 
with that and the position in which I have since found 
myself placed by this very action, I need not cumber my 
present narrative. Handing the bonds to my agent with 
orders to sell them to the best advantage, I took a short walk 
to quiet my nerves and realize what I had done, and then 
went home. 

“ Paula, had God in his righteous anger seen fit to strike 
me down that day, it would have been no more than my due 
and aroused in me, perhaps, no more than a natural repent- 
ence. But when I saw her for whose sake I had ostensibly 
committed this fresh abuse of trust, lying cold and dead 
before me, the sword of the Almighty pierced me to the soul, 
and I fell prostrate beneath a remorse to which any regret I 
had hitherto experienced, was as the playing of a child with 
shadows. Had I by the losing of my right arm been able to 
recall my action, I would have done it ; indeed I made an 
effort to recover myself; had my agent followed up with an 
order to return me the bonds I had given him, but it was 
too late, the compromise had already been effected by tele- 
graph and the money was out of our hands. The deed was 
done and I had made myself unworthy of your presence and 
your smile at the very hour when both would have been 
inestimable to me. You remember those days ; remembet 
our farewell. Let me believe you do not blame me now fol 
what must have seemed harsh and unnecessary to you then. 


FROM A. TO Z. 


469 

“ There is but little more to write, but in that little is 
compressed the passion, longing, hope and despair of a life- 
time. When I told you as I did a few hours ago that my 
sin was dead and its consequences at an end, I repeat that ] 
fully and truly believed it. The hundred thousand dollars 
I had sent West, had been used to advantage, and only day 
before yesterday I was enabled to sell out my share in the 
mine, for a large sum that leaves me free and unembarrassed, 
to make the fortune of more than one Japha, should God 
ever see fit to send them across my pathway. More than 
that, Mr. Delafield, of whose discretion I had sometimes had 
my fears, was dead, having perished of a fever some months 
before in San Francisco ; and of all men living, there were 
none as I believed, who knew anything to the discredit of 
my name. I was clear, or so I thought, in fortune and in 
fame ; and being so, dreamed of taking to my empty and 
yearning arms, the loveliest and the purest of mortal women. 
But God watched over you and prevented an act whose con- 
sequences might have been so cruel. In an hour, Paula, in 
an hour, I had learned that the foul thing was not dead, 
that a witness had picked up the words I had allowed to 
fall in my interview with my father-in-law in the restaurant 
two years before ; an unscrupulous witness who had been on 
my track ever since, and who now in his eagerness for a 
victim, had by mistake laid his clutch upon our Bertram. 
Yes, owing to the similarity of our voices and the fact that 
we both make use of a certain tell-tale word, this patient and 
upright nephew of mine stands at this moment under the 


470 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


charge of having acknowledged in the hearing of this person 
to the committal of an act of dishonesty in the past. A fool 
ish charge you will say, and one easily refuted. Alas, a fresh 
act of dishonesty lately perpetrated in the bank, complicates 
matters. A theft has been committed on some of Mr. Stuy- 
vesant’s effects, and that, too, under circumstances that in- 
voluntarily arouse suspicion against some one of the bank 
officials; and Bertram, if not sustained in his reputation, 
must suffer from the doubts which naturally have arisen in 
Mr. Stuyvesant’s breast. The story which this man could 
tell, must of course shake the faith of any one in the reputa- 
tion of him against whom it is directed, and the man intends 
to repeat his story, and that, too, in the very ears of him upon 
whose favor Bertram depends for his life’s happiness and the 
winning of the woman he adores. I adore you, Paula, but I 
cannot clasp you to my heart across another sin. If the de- 
tectives whom we shall call in to-morrow, cannot exonerate 
those connected with the bank from the theft lately com- 
mitted there — and the fact that you have been allowed to 
read this letter, prove they have not — I must do what I can 
to relieve Bertram from his painful position, by taking upon 
myself the onus of that past transgression which of right be- 
longs to my account ; and this once done, let the result be 
for good or ill, any bond between you and me is cut loose 
forever. I have not learned to love at this late hour, to 
wrong the precious thing I cherish. Death as it is to me to 
say good-bye to the one last gleam of heavenly light that has 
shot across my darkened way, it must be done, dear heart, i/ 


FROM A. TO Z. 


47 1 


only to hold myself worthy of the tender and generous love 
you have designed to bestow upon me. Bertram, who is all 
generosity, may guess but does not know, what I am about 
to do. Go down to him, dear; tell him that at this very 
moment, perhaps, I am clearing his name before the wretch 
who has so ruthlessly fastened his fang upon him ; that his 
love and Cicely’s shall prosper, as he has been loyal, and she 
trusting, all these years of effort and probation ; that I give 
him my blessing, and that if we do not meet again, I delegate 
to him the trust of which I so poorly acquitted myself. But 
before you go, stop a moment and in this room, which has 
always symbolized to my eyes the poverty which was my 
rightful due, kneel and pray for my soul ; for if God grants 
me the wish of my heart, he will strike me with sudden death 
after I have taken upon myself the disgrace of my past 
offences. Life without love can be borne, but life without 
honor never. To come and go amongst my fellow-men with 
a shadow on the fame they have always believed spotless ! 
Do not ask me to attempt it ! Pray for my soul, but pray 
too, that I may perish in some quick and sudden way before 
ever your dear eyes rest upon my face again. 

“And now, as though this were to be the end, let me take 
my last farewell of you. I have loved you, Paula, loved you 
with my heart, my mind and my soul. You have been my 
angel of inspiration and the source of all my comfort. I 
kneel before you in gratitude, and I stand above you in 
blessing. May every pang I suffer this hour, redound to 
you in some sweet happiness hereafter. T do not quarrel 


472 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


with my fate, I only ask God to spare you from its shadow 
And He will. Love will flow back upon your young life, 
and in regions where >ur eye now fails to pierce, you will 
taste every joy wh>c T ’ your generous heart once thought tc 
bestow on 


“ Edward Sylvester.” 


XL. 


HALF-PAST SEVEN. 

t would it were midnight, Hal, and all well.”— Hknkt IV. 

The library was dim ; Bertram, who had felt the oppres- 
sive influence of the great empty room, had turned down 
the lights, and was now engaged in pacing the floor, with 
restless and uneven steps, asking himself a hundred ques- 
tions, and wishing with all the power of his soul, that Mr 
Sylvester would return, and by his appearance cut short a 
suspense that was fast becoming unendurable. 

He had just returned from his third visit to the front 
door, when the curtain between him and the hall was gently 
raised, and Paula glided in and stood before him. She was 
dressed for the street, and her face where the light touched 
it, shone like marble upon which has fallen the glare of a 
lifted torch. 

“ Paula ! ” burst from the young man’s lips in surprise. 

“ Hush ! ” said she, her voice quavering with an emotion 
that put to defiance all conventionalities, “ I want you to 
take me to the place where Mr. Sylvester is gone. He is in 
danger ; I know it, I feel it. I dare not leave him any 
longer alone. I might be able to save him if — if he medi- 
tates anything that — ” she did not try to say what but drew 


474 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


nearer to Bertram and repeated her request “ You will 
take me, won’t you ? ” 

He eyed her with amazement, and a shudder seized his 
own strong frame. “ No,” cried he, “ I cannot take you ; 
you do not know what you ask ; but I will go myself if you 
apprehend anything serious. I remember where it is. I 
studied the address too closely, to readily forget it.” 

“ You shall not go without me,” returned Paula with 
steady decision. “ If the danger is what I fear, no one else 
can save him. I must go,” she added, with passionate im- 
portunity as she saw him still looking doubtful. “ Darkness 
and peril are nothing to me in comparison with his safety. 
He holds my life in his hand,” she softly whispered, “ and 
what will not one do for his life ! ” Then quickly, “ If you 
go without me I shall follow with Aunt Belinda. Nothing 
shall keep me in the house to-night.” 

He felt the uselessness of further objection, yet he ven- 
tured to say, “ The place where he has gone is one of the 
worst in the city ; a spot which men hesitate to enter after 
dark. You don’t know what you ask in begging me to take 
you there.” 

“ I do, I realize everything.” 

With a sudden awe of the great love which he thus 
beheld embodied before him, Bertram bowed his head 
and moved towards the door. “ I may consider it wise 
to obtain the guidance of a policeman through the quarter 
into which we are about to venture. Will you object to 
that ? ” 


FROM A. TO Z. 475 

“ No,” was her quick reply, “ I object to nothing but 
delay.” 

And with a last look about the room, as if some sensation 
of farewell were stirring in her breast, she laid her hand on 
Bertram's arm, and together they hurried away into the 

night 


BOOK V. 

WOMAN’S LOVE. 

XLI. 

THE WORK OF AN HOUR. 


“ Base is the slave that pays.” — Hbnry V. 

“ Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, 

Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.” — Congkkvs. 


Mr. Sylvester upon leaving the bank, had taken his 
usual route up town. But after an aimless walk of a few 
blocks, he suddenly paused, and with a quiet look about him, 
drew from his pocket the small slip of paper which Bertram 
had laid on his table the night before, and hurriedly con- 
sulted its contents. Instantly an irrepressible exclamation 
escaped him, and he turned his face to the heavens with the 
look of one who recognizes the just providence of God. 
The name which he had just read, was that of the old lover 
of Jacqueline Japha, Roger Holt, and the address given, 
was 63 Baxter Street. 

Twilight comes with different aspects to the broad 
avenues of the rich, and the narrow alleys of the poor. In 
the reeking slums of Baxter Street, poetry would have had to 
search long for the purple glamour that makes day’s dying 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


477 


hour fair in open fields and perfumed chambers. Even the 
last dazzling gleam of the sun could awaken no sparkle from 
the bleared windows of the hideous tenement houses that 
reared their blank and disfigured walls toward the west. 
The chill of the night blast and the quick dread that follows 
in the steps of coming darkness, were all that could enter 
these regions, unless it was the stealthy shades of vice and 
disease. 

Mr. Sylvester standing before the darkest and most 
threatening of the many dark and threatening houses that 
cumbered the street, was a sight to draw more than one head 
from the neighboring windows. Had it been earlier, he 
would have found himself surrounded by a dozen ragged and 
importunate children ; had it been later, he would have run 
the risk of being garroted by some skulking assassin ; as it 
was, he stood there unmolested, eying -the structure that held 
within its gloomy recesses the once handsome and captiva- 
ting lover of Jacqueline Japha. He was not the only man 
who would have hesitated before entering there. Low and 
insignificant as the building appeared — and its two stories 
certainly looked dwarfish enough in comparison with the 
two lofty tenement houses that pressed it upon either side — 
there was something in its quiet, almost uninhabited aspect 
that awakened a vague apprehension of lurking danger. A 
face at a window would have been a relief; even the sight of 
a customer in the noisome groggery that occupied the ground 
floor. From the dwellings about, came the hum of voices 
and now and then the sound of a shrill laugh or a smothered 


478 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


cry, but from this house came nothing, unless it was the slow 
ooze of a stream of half-melted snow that found its way from 
under the broken-down doorway to the gutter beyond. 

Stepping bravely forward, Mr. Sylvester entered the open 
door. A flight of bare and rickety steps met his eye. As- 
cending them, he found himself in a hall which must have 
been poorly lighted at any time, but which at this late hour 
was almost dark. It was not very encouraging, but pressing 
on, he stopped at a door and was about to knock, when his 
eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness, he detected 
standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the story above, 
the tall and silent figure of a woman. It was no common 
apparition. Like a sentinel at his post, or a spy on the out- 
skirts of the enemy’s camp, she stood drawn up against the 
wall, her whole wasted form quivering with eagerness or some 
other secret passion ; darkness on her brow and uncertainty 
on her lip. She was listening, or waiting, or both, and that 
with an entire absorption that prevented her from heeding 
the approach of a stranger’s step. Struck by so sinister a 
presence in a place so dark and desolate, Mr. Sylvester un- 
consciously drew back. As he did so, the woman thrilled 
and looked up, but not at him. A lame child’s hesitating 
and uneven step was heard crossing the floor above, and it 
was towards it she turned, and for it she composed her whole 
form into a strange but evil calmness. 

“ Ah, he let you come then ! ” Mr. Sylvester heard her 
exclaim in a low smothered tone, whose attempted lightness 
did not hide the malevolent nature of her interest. 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


479 


“Yes,” came back in the clear and confiding tones of 
childhood. “ I told him you loved me and gave me candy- 
balls, and he let me come.” 

A laugh quick and soon smothered, disturbed the sur- 
rounding gloom. “ You told him I loved you! Well, that is 
good ; I do love you ; love you as I do my own eyes that I 
could crush, crush, for ever having lingered on the face of 
my betrayer ! ” 

The last phrase was muttered, and did not seem to con 
vey any impression to the child. “ Hold out your arms and 
catch me,” cried he : “ I am going to jump.” 

She appeared to comply ; for he gave a little ringing 
laugh that was startlingly clear and fresh. 

“ He asked me what your name was,” babbled he, as he 
nestled in her arms. “ He is always asking what your name 
is ; Dad forgets, Dad does ; or else it’s because he’s never 
seen you.” 

“ And what did you tell him?” she asked, ignoring the 
last remark with an echo of her sarcastic laugh. 

“ Mrs. Smith, of course.” 

She threw back her head and her whole form acquired 
an aspect that made Mr. Sylvester shudder. “ That’s good,” 
she cried, “ Mrs. Smith by all means.” Then with a sudden 
lowering of her face to his— “ Mrs. Smith is good to you, 
isn’t she ; lets you sit by her fire when she has any, and 
gives you peanuts to eat and sometimes spares you a 
penny ! ” 

“ Yes, yes.” the boy cried. 


480 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“Come then,” she said, “let’s go home.” 

She put him down on the floor, and gave him his little 
crutch. Her manner was not unkind, and yet Mr. Sylvester 
trembled as he saw the child about to follow her. 

“ Didn’t you ever have any little boys ? ” the child sud 
denly asked. 

The woman shrank as if a burning steel had been 
plunged against her breast. Looking down on the frightened 
child, she hissed out from between her teeth, “ Did he tell 
you to ask me that ? Did he dare — ” She stopped and 
pressed her arms against her swelling heart as if she would 
smother its very beats. “ Oh no, of course he didn’t tell 
you ; what does he know or care about Mrs. Smith ! ” Then 
with a quick gasp and a wild look into the space before her, 
“ My child dead, and her child alive and beloved ! What 
wonder that I hate earth and defy heaven ! ” 

She caught the boy by the hand and drew him quickly 
away. “You will be good to me,” he cried, frightened by 
her manner yet evidently fascinated too, perhaps on account 
of the faint sparks of kindness that alternated with gusts of 
passion he did not understand. “ You won’t hurt me ; 
you’ll let me sit by the fire and get warm ?” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ And eat a bit of bread with butter on it ? ” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ Then I’ll go.” 

She drew him down the hall. “ Why do you like to have 
me come to your house ? ” he prattled away. 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


48 J 


She turned on him with a look which unfortunately Mr. 
Sylvester could not see. “ Because your eyes are so 
blue and your skin is so white ; they make me remember 
her ! ” 

“ And who is her ? ” 

She laughed and seemed to hug herself in her rage and 
bitterness. “ Your mother! ” she cried, and in speaking it, 
she came upon Mr. Sylvester. 

He at once put out his hand. 

“ I don’t know who you are,” said he, ” but I do not 
think you had better take the child out to-night. From 
what you say, his father is evidently upstairs ; if you will 
give the boy to me, I will take him back and leave him 
where he belongs.” 

“ You will ? ” The slow intensity of her tone was inde- 
scribable. “ Know that I don’t bear interference from 
strangers.” And catching up the child, she rushed by him 
like a flash. “You are probably one of those missionaries 
who go stealing about unasked into respectable persons’ 
rooms ” she called back. “ If by any chance you wander 
into his, tell him his child is in good hands, do you hear, in 
good hands ! ” And with a final burst of her hideous laugh> 
ghe dashed down the stairs and was gone. 

Mr. Sylvester stood shocked and undecided. His 
fatherly heart urged him to search at once for the parent of 
this lame boy, and warn him of the possible results of en- 
trusting his child to a woman with so little command ovei 
herself. But upon taking out his watch and finding it latei 


482 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES .' 


by a good half-hour than he expected, he was so struck with 
the necessity of completing his errand, that he forgot every- 
thing else in his anxiety to confront Holt. Knocking at the 
first door he came to, he waited. A quick snarl and a sur- 
prised, “ Come in ! ” announced that he had scared up some 
sort of a living being, but whether man or woman he found 
it impossible to tell, even after the door opened and the 
creature, whoever it was, rose upon him from a pile of rags 
scattered in one corner. 

“ I want Mr. Holt; can you tell me where to find him ? ” 

“ Upstairs,” was the only reply he received, as the crea- 
ture settled down again upon its heap of tattered clothing. 

Fain to be content with this, he went up another flight 
and opened another door. He was more successful this 
time ; one glance of his eye assured him that the man he 
was in search of, sat before him. He had never seen Mr. 
Holt ; but the regular if vitiated features of the person upon 
whom he now intruded, his lank but not ungraceful form, 
and free if not airy manners, were not so common among 
the denizens of this unwholesome quarter, that there could 
be any doubt as to his being the accomplished but degener- 
ate individual whose once attractive air had stolen the heart 
of Colonel Japha’s daughter. 

He was sitting in front of a small pine table, and when 
Mr Sylvester’s eyes first fell upon him, was engaged in 
watching with a somewhat sinister smile, the final twirl of a 
solitary nickle which he had set spinning on the board before 
him. But at the sound of a step at the door, a lightning 


WOMAN’S LOVE. 


4«3 


change passed over his countenance, and rising with a quick 
anticipatory “ Ah ! ” he turned with hasty action to meet the 
intruder. A second exclamation and a still more hasty 
recoil were the result. This was not the face or the form of 
him whom he had expected. 

“ Mr. Holt, I believe ? ” inquired Mr. Sylvester, advanc- 
ing with his most dignified mien. 

The other bowed, but in a doubtful way that for a 
moment robbed him of his usual air of impudent self-asser- 
tion. 

“Then I have business with you,” continued Mr. Sylves- 
ter, laying the man’s own card down on the table before him. 

‘My name is Sylvester,” he proceeded, with a calmness that 
surprised himself ; “ and I am the uncle of the young man 
upon whom you are at present presuming to levy blackmail.” 

The assurance which for a moment had deserted the 
countenance of the other, returned with a flash. “ His 
uncle ! ” reechoed he, with a low anomalous bow ; “ then it 
is from you I may expect the not unreasonable sum which I 
demand as the price of my attentions to your nephew’s 
interest. Very good, I am not particular from what 
quarter it comes so that it does come and that before the 
clock has struck the hour which I have set as the limit of my 
forbearance.” 

“ Which is seven o’clock, I believe ? ” 

“ Which is seven o’clock.” 

Mr. Sylvester folded his arms and sternly eyed the man 
before him. “ You still adhere to your intention, then, of 


484 


the sword of damocles. 


forwarding to Mr. Stuyvesant at that hour, the sealed com* 
munication now in the hands of your lawyer ? ” 

The smile with which the other responded was like the 
glint of a partly sheathed dagger. “ My lawyer has already 
received his instructions. Nothing but an immediate coun- 
termand on my part, will prevent the communication of 
which you speak, from going to Mr. Stuyvesant at seven 
o’clock.” 

The sigh which rose in Mr. Sylvester’s breast did not 
disturb the severe immobility of his lip. “ Have you ever 
considered the possibility,” said he, “ of the man whom you 
overheard talking in the restaurant in Dey Street two years 
ago, not being Mr. Bertram Sylvester of the Madison Bank ? ” 
“ No,” returned the other, with a short, sharp, and 
wholly undisturbed laugh, “I do not think I ever have.” 

“ Will you give me credit, then, for speaking with reason, 
when I declare to you that the man you overheard talking in 
the manner you profess to describe in your communication, 
was not Mr. Bertram Sylvester? ” 

A shrug of the shoulders, highly foreign and suggestive, 
was the other’s answer. “ It was Mr. Sylvester or it was the 
devil,” proclaimed he — “ with all deference to your reason, 
my good sir ; or why are you here ? ” he keenly added. 

Mr. Sylvester did not reply. With a sarcastic twitch of 
his lips the man took up the nickle with which he had been 
amusing himself when the former came in, and set it spinning 
again upon the table. “ It is half-past six,” remarked he. 
“ It will take me a good half hour to go to my lawyer.” 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


485 


Mr. Sylvester made a final effort. “ If you could be 
convinced,” said he, “ that you have got your grasp upon 
the wrong man, would you still persist in the course upon 
which you seem determined? ” 

With a dexterous sleight-of-hand movement, the man 
picked up the whirling nickle and laid it flat on the table 
before him. “ A fellow whose whole fortune is represented 
by a coin like that” — tapping the piece significantly — “is not 
as easily convinced as a man of your means, perhaps. But 
if I should be brought to own that I had made a mistake in 
my man, I should still feel myself justified in proceeding 
against him, since my very accusation of him seems to be 
enough to arouse such interest on the part of his friends.” 

“Wretch!” leaped to Mr. Sylvester’s lips, but he did 
not speak it. “ His friends,” declared he, “ have most 
certainly a great interest in his reputation and his happiness ; 
but they never will pay any thing upon coercion to preserve 
the one or to insure the other.” 

“ They won’t ! ” And for the first time Roger Holt 
slightly quavered. 

“ A man’s honor and happiness are much, and he will 
struggle long before he will consent to part from them. But 
a citizen of a great town like this, owes something to his 
fellows, and submitting to black-mail is but a poor precedent 
to set. You will have to proceed as you will, Mr. Holt ; 
neither my nephew nor myself have any money to give 
you.” 

The glare in the man’s eyes was like that of an aroused 


4-86 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


tiger. “ Do you mean to say,” cried he, “ that you will nol 
give from your abundance, a paltry thousand dollars to save 
one of your blood from a suspicion that will never leave him 
never leave him to the end of his miserable days ? ” 

“ I mean to say that not one cent will pass from me to 
you in payment of a silence, which as a gentleman, you ought 
to feel it incumbent upon you to preserve unasked, if only 
to prove to your fellow-men that you have not entirely lost 
all the instincts of the caste to which you once belonged. 
Not that I look for anything so disinterested from you,” he 
went on. “ A man who could enter the home of a respect- 
able gentleman, and under cover of a brotherly regard, lure 
into degradation and despair, the woman who was at once its 
ornament and pride, cannot be expected to practice the vir- 
tues of ordinary manhood, much less those of a gentleman 
and a Christian. He is a wretch, who, whatever his breed- 
ing or antecedents, is open to nothing but execration and 
contempt.” 

With an oath and a quick backward spring, Roger Holt 
cried out, “ Who are you, and by what right do you come 
here to reproach me with a matter dead and buried, by 
heaven, a dozen years ago ? ” 

“ The right of one who, though a stranger, knows well 
what you are and what you have done. Colonel Japha him- 
self is dead, but the avenger of his honor yet lives ! Roger 
Holt, where is Jacqueline Japha f ” 

The force with which this was uttered, seemed to con- 
found the man. For a moment he stood silent, his eye upon 


W UMAX'S LOVE. 


487 


his guest, then a subtle change took place in his expression 
he smiled with a slow devilish meaning, and tossing his head 
with an airy gesture, lightly remarked : 

“You must ask some more constant lover than I. A 
woman who was charming ten years ago — Bah ! what would 
T be likely to know about her now ! ” 

“Everything, when that woman is Jacqueline Japha,” 
cried Mr. Sylvester, advancing upon him with a look that 
would have shaken most men, but which only made the eye 
of this one burn more eagerly. “ Though you might easily 
wish to give her the slip, she is not one to forget you. If 
she is alive, you know where she is ; speak then, and let the 
worth of one good action make what amends it can for a 
long list of evil ones.” 

“You really want to see the woman, then ; enough to 
pay for it, I mean ? ” 

“ The reward which has been offered for news of the fate 
or whereabouts of Jacqueline Japha, still stands good,” was 
Mr. Sylvester’s reply. 

The excited stare with which the man received this an- 
nouncement, slowly subsided into his former subtle look. 

“ Well, well,” said he, “ we will see.” The truth was, 
that he knew no more than the other where this woman was 
to be found. “ If I happen to come across her in any of my 
wanderings, I shall know where to apply for means to mak 
her welcome. But that is not what at present concerns us 
Your nephew is losing ground with every passing minute. 
In a half-hour more his future will be decided, unless you 


488 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES . 


bid me order my lawyer to delay the forwarding of that 
communication to Mr. Stuyvesant. In that case — ” 

** I believe I have already made it plain to you that I 
have no intentions of interfering with your action in this 
matter,” quoth Mr. Sylvester, turning slowly toward the 
door. ‘ If you are determined to send your statement, it 
must go, only — ” And here he turned upon the bitterly 
disappointed man with an aspect whose nobility the other 
was but little calculated to appreciate — “ only when you dd 
so, be particular to state that the person whose story you 
thus forward to a director of the Madison Bank, is not Ber- 
tram Sylvester, the cashier, but Edward Sylvester, his uncle, 
and the bank’s president.” 

And the stately head bowed and the tall form was about 
to withdraw, when Holt with an excited tremble that affected 
even his words, advanced and seized Mr. Sylvester by the arm. • 

“ His uncle ! ” cried he, “why that is what you — Great 
heaven ! ” he exclaimed, falling back with an expression not 
unmixed with awe, “you are the man, and you have de- 
nounced yourself ! ” Then quickly, “ Speak again ; let me 
hear your voice.” 

And Mr. Sylvester with a sad smile, repeated in a slow 
and meaning tone, “It is but one little fuss more ! ” then as 
the other cringed, added a dignified, “ Good evening, Mr. 
Holt,” and passed swiftly across the room towards the door. 

What was it that stopped him half-way, and made him 
look back with such a startled glance at the man he had left 
behind him ? A smell of smoke in the air, the faint yet un 


WOMAN'S Lt VE. 489 

mistakable odor of burning wood, as though the house were 
on fire, or — 

Ha ! the man himself has discerned it, is on his feet, is at 
the window, has seen what ? His cry of mingled terror and 
dismay does not reveal. Mr. Sylvester hastens to his side. 

The sight which met his eyes, did not for the moment 
seem sufficient to account for the degree of emotion ex- 
pressed by the other. To be sure, the lofty tenement-house 
which towered above them from the other side of the narrow 
yard upon which the window looked, was oozing with smoke, 
but there were no flames visible, and as yet no special mani- 
festations of alarm on the part of its occupants. But in 
an instant, even while they stood there, arose the sudden 
and awful cry of “ Fire ! ” and at the same moment they 
beheld the roof and casements before them, swarm with 
pallid faces, as men, women and children rushed to the first 
outlet that offered escape, only to shrink back in renewed 
terror from the deadly gulf that yawned beneath them. 

It was horrible, all the more that the fire seem to be 
somewhere in the basement story, possibly at the foot of the 
stairs, for none of the poor shrieking wretches before them 
seemed to make any effort to escape downwards, but rather 
surged up towards the top of the building, waving their arms 
as they fled, and filling the dusk with cries that drowned the 
sound of the coming engines. 

The scene appeared to madden Holt. “ My boy ! my 
boy ! my boy ! ” rose from his lips in an agonized shriek , 
then as Mr. Sylvester gave a sudden start, cried out with 


490 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


indiscribable anguish, " He is there, my boy, my own litth 
chap ! A woman in that house has bewitched him, and 
when he is not with me, he is always at her side. O God* 
curses on my head for ever letting him out of my sight ! 
Do you see him, sir ? Look for him, I beseech you ; he is 
lame and small ; his head would barely reach to the top of 
the window-sill.” 

“ And that was your boy ! ” cried Mr. Sylvester. And 
struck by an appeal which in spite of his abhorrence of the 
man at his side, woke every instinct of fatherhood within 
him, he searched with his glance the long row of windows 
before them. But before his eye had travelled half way 
across the building, he felt the man at his side quiver with 
sudden agony, and following the direction of his glance, saw 
a wan, little countenance looking down upon them from a 
window almost opposite to where they stood. 

“ It is my boy ! ” shrieked the man, and in his madness 
would have leaped from the casement, if Mr. Sylvester had 
not prevented him. 

“ You will not help him so,” cried the latter. “ See, he 
is only a few feet above a bridge that appears to communi- 
cate with the roof of the next house. If he could be let 
down — ” 

But the man had already precipitated himself towards 
the door of the room in which they were. “ Tell him not to 
jump,” he called back. “ I am going next door and will 
reach him in a moment. Tell him to hold on till I come.” 

Mr. Sylvester at once raised his voice. “ Dont jump, 


WOMAA n S LOVE. 


49I 


little boy Holt. If there is no one there to drop you down, 
wait for your father. He is going on the bridge and wil 1 
catch you.” 

The little fellow seemed to hear, for he immediately held 
out his arms, but if he spoke, his voice was drowned in the 
frightful hubbub. Meanwhile the smoke thickened around 
him, and a dull ominous glare broke out from the midst of 
the building, against which his weazen little face looked pal- 
lid as death. 

" His father will be too late,” groaned Mr. Sylvester, 
feeling himself somehow to blame for the child’s horrible 
situation ; then observing that the other occupants of the 
building had all disappeared towards the front, realized that 
whatever fire-escapes may have been provided, were doubt- 
less in that direction, and raising his voice once more, called 
out across the yard, “ Dont wait any longer, little fellow ; 
follow the rest to the front ; you will be burned if you stay 
there.” 

But the child did not move, only held out his arms in a 
way to unman the strongest heart ; and presently while Mr. 
Sylvester was asking himself what could be done, he heard 
his shrill piping tones rising above the hiss of the flames, 
and listening, caught the words : 

“ I cannot get away. She is holding me Dad. Help 
your little feller; help me, I’m so afraid of being burnt'’ 
And looking closer, Mr. Sylvester discerned the outlines of a 
woman’s head and shoulders above the small white face. 

A distinct and positive fear at once seized him. Leaning 


4Q2 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


out, Ihe better to display his own face and figure, he called 
to that unknown woman to quit her hold and let ihe child 
go ; but a discordant laugh, rising above the roar of the ap- 
proaching flames, was his only reply. Sickened with appre 
hension, he drew back and himself made for the stairs in the 
wild idea of finding the father. But just then the mad figure 
of Holt appeared at the door, with frenzy in all his looks. 

“ I cannot push through the crowd,” cried he, “ I have 
fought and struggled and shrieked, but it is all of no use. 
My boy is burning alive and I cannot reach him.” A lurid 
flame shot at that moment from the building before them, as 
if in emphasis to his words. 

“ He is prisoned there by a woman,” cried Mr. Sylvester, 
pointing to the figure whose distorted outlines was every 
moment becoming more and more visible in the increasing 
glare. “ See, she has him tight in her arms and is pressing 
him against the window-sill.” 

The man with a terrible recoil, looked in the direction of 
his child, saw the little white face with its wild expression of 
conscious terror, saw the face of her who towered implacably 
behind it, and shrieked appalled. 

“ Jacqueline ! ” he cried, and put his hands up before his 
face as if his eyes had fallen upon an avenging spirit. 

tl Is that Jacqueline Japha ? ” asked Mr. Sylvester, drag- 
ging down the other’s hands and pointing relentlessly to- 
wards the ominous figure in the window before him. 

“ Yes, or her ghost,” cried the other, shuddering under a 
horror that left him little control of his reason. 


WOMAN'S LOVE . 


493 


‘Then your boy is lost,” murmured Mr. Sylvester, with 
a vivid remembrance of the words he had overheard. “ She 
will never save her rival’s child, never.” 

The man looked at him with dazed eyes. “ She shall save 
him,” he cried, and stretching far out of the window by 
which he stood, he pointed to the bridge and called >ut, 

“ Drop him, Jacqueline, dont let him burn. He can still 
reach the next house if he runs. Save my darling, save him.” 

But the woman as if waiting for his voice, only threw 
back her head, and while a bursting flame flashed up behind 
her, shrieked mockingly back : 

“ Oh I have frightened you up at last, have I ? You can 
see me now, can you ? you can call on Jacqueline now ? 
The brat can make you speak, can he ? Well, well, call 
away, I love to hear your voice. It is music to me even in 
the face of death.” 

“ My boy ! my boy,” was all he could gasp ; “ save the 
child, Jacqueline, only save the child! ” 

But the harsh scornful laugh she returned, spoke little of 
saving. “ He is so dear,” she hissed. “ I love the offspring 
of my rival so much ! the child that has taken the place of 
my own darling, dead before ever I had seen its innocent 
eyes. Oh yes, yes, I will save it, save it as my own was 
saved. When I saw the puny infant in your arms the day 
you passed me with her, I swore to be its friend, don’t you 
remember ! And I am, so much of a one that I stick by 
him to the death, don’t you see ? ” And raising him up in 
her arms till his whole stunted body was visible, she turned 


494 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


away her brow and seemed to laugh in the face of the 
flames. 

The father writhed below in his agony. “Forgive,” he 
cried, “forgive the past and give me back my child. It’s all 
1 have to love ; it’s all I’ve ever loved. Be merciful, Jacque- 
line, be merciful ! ” 

Her face flashed back upon him, still and white. “ And 
what mercy have you ever shown to me ! Fool, idiot, don’t 
you see I have lived for this hour ! To make you feel for 
once; to make you suffer for once as I have suffered. You 
love the boy ! Roger Holt, I once loved you.” 

And heedless of the rolling volume of smoke that now 
began to pour towards her, heedless even of the long tongues 
of hungry flame that were stretched out as if feeling for her 
from the distance behind, she stood immovable, gazing down 
upon the casement where he knelt, with an indescribable and 
awful smile upon her lips. 

The sight was unbearable. With an instinct of despair 
both men drew back, when suddenly they saw the woman 
start, unloose her clasp and drop the child out of her arms 
upon the bridge. A hissing stream of water had fallen upon 
the flames, and the shock had taken her by surprise. In a 
moment the father was himself again. 

“ Get up, little feller, get up,” he cried, “ or if you cannot 
walk, crawl along the bridge to the next house. I see a fire' 
man there ; he will lift you in.” 

But at that moment the flames, till now held under 
lome control, burst from an adjoining window, and caught 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


495 


at the woodwork of the bridge. The father yelled in 
dismay. 

“ Hurry, little feller, hurry ! ” he cried. “ Get over 
towards the next house before it is too late.” 

■Rut a paralysis seemed to have seized the child ; he arose, 
then stopped, and looking wildly about, shook his head. “ I 
cannot,” he cried, “ I cannot.” And the woman laughed, 
and with a hug of her empty arms, seemed to throw her 
taunts into the space before her. 

“ Are you a demon ? ” burst from Mr. Sylvester’s lips in 
uncontrollable horror. “ Don’t you see you can save him if 
you will ? Jump down, then, and carry him across, or youi 
father’s curse will follow you to the world beyond.” 

“Yes, climb down,” cried the fireman, “you are lighter 
than I. Don’t waste a minute, a second.” 

“ It is your own child, Jacqueline, your own child ! ” 
came from Holt’s white lips in final desperation. “ I have 
deceived you ; your baby did not die ; I wanted to get rid 
of you and I wanted to save him, so I lied to you. The 
baby did not die; he lived, and that is he you see lying 
helpless on the bridge beneath you.” 

Not the clutch of an advancing flame could have made 
her shrink more fearfully. “ It is false,” she cried ; “ you are 
lying now ; you want me to save her child, and dare to say it 
is mine.” 

“ As God lives ! ” he swore, lifting his hand and turning 
his face to the sky. 

Her whole attitude seemed to cry, “ No, no,” to his asser* 


496 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


tion but slowly as she stood there, the conviction of its truth 
seemed to strike her, and her hair rose on her forehead and 
she swayed to and fro, as if the earth were rolling under her 
feet. Suddenly she gave a yell, and bounded from the 
window. Catching the child in her arms, she attempted to 
regain the refuge beyond, but the flames had not dallied at 
their work while she hesitated. The bridge was on fire and 
her retreat was cut off. She did not attempt to escape. 
Stopping in the centre of the rocking mass, she looked down 
as only a mother in her last agony can do, on the child she 
held folded in her arms ; then as the flames caught at her 
floating garments, stooped her head and printed one wild 
and passionate kiss upon his brow. Another instant and 
they saw her head rise to the accusing heavens, then all was 
rush and horror, and the swaying structure fell before their 
eyes, sweeping its living freight into the courtyard beneath 
their feet 


XLII. 


PAULA RELATES A STORY SHE HAS HEARD. 

“ None are so desolate but something dear, 

Dearer than self, possesses or possessed.”— Byron. 

In the centre of a long low room not far from the scene 
of the late disaster, a solitary lamp was burning. It had 
been lit in haste and cast but a feeble flame, but its light was 
sufficient to illuminate the sad and silent group that gath- 
ered under its rays. 

On a bench by the wall, crouched the bowed and 
stricken form of Roger Holt, his face buried in his hands, 
his whole attitude expressive of the utmost grief ; at his side 
stood Mr. Sylvester, his tall figure looming sombrely in the 
dim light ; and on the floor at their feet, lay the dead form 
of the little lame boy. 

But it was not upon their faces, sad and striking as they 
were, that the eyes of the few men and women scattered in 
the open door-way, rested most intently. It was upon her, 
the bruised, bleeding, half-dead mother, who kneeling above 
the little corpse, gazed down upon it with the immobility of 
despair, moaning in utter heedlessness of her own condition, 
“ My baby, my baby, my own, own baby ! ” 

The fixedness with which she eyed the child, though the 


49S 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


blood was streaming from her forehead and bathing with a 
still deeper red her burned and blistered arms, made Mr 
Sylvester’s sympathetic heart beat. Turning to the silen; 
figure of Holt, he touched him on the arm and said with a 
gesture in her direction : 

“ You have not deceived the woman ? That is really hei 
own child that lies there ? ” 

The man beside him, started, looked up with slowly 
comprehending eyes, and mechanically bowed his head. 
“ Yes,” assented he, and relapsed into his former heavy 
silence. 

Mr. Sylvester touched him again. “ If it -is hers, how 
came she not to know it ? How could you manage to de- 
ceive such a woman as that ? ” 

Holt started again and muttered, “She was sick and in- 
sensible. She never saw the baby ; I sent it away, and 
when she came to herself, told her it was dead. We had 
become tired of each other long before, and only needed the 
breaking of this bond to separate us. When she saw me 
again, it was with another woman at my side and an infant 
in my arms. The child . was weakly and looked younger 
than he was. She thought it her rival’s and I did not unde- 
ceive her.” And the heavy head again fell forward, and 
nothing disturbed the sombre silence of the room but the 
iow unvarying moan of the wretched mother, “ My baby, my 
baby, my own, own baby ! ” 

Mr. Sylvester moved over to her side. Jacqueline,” 
6aid he, “ the child is dead and you yourself are very much 


WOMAN'S LOVE . 


499 


hurt. Won t you let these good women lay you on a bed 
ind do what they can to bind up your poor blistered 
irms ? ” 

But she heard him no more than the wind’s blowing 
My baby,” she moaned, “ my own, own baby ! ” 

He drew back with a troubled air. Grief like this he 
could understand but knew not how to alleviate. He was 
just on the point of beckoning forward one of the many 
women clustered in the door-way, when there came a sound 
from without that made him start, and in another moment a 
young man had stepped hastily into the room, followed by a 
girl, who no sooner saw Mr. Sylvester, than she bounded 
forward with a sudden cry of joy and relief. 

“ Bertram ! Paula ! What does this mean ? What are 
you doing here ? ” 

A burst of sobs from the agitated girl was her sole reply. 

“Such a night! such a place!” he exclaimed, throwing 
his arm about Paula with a look that made her tremble 
through her tears. “Were you so anxious about me, little 
one ? ” he whispered. “ Would not your fears let you 
rest?” 

“ No, no ; and we have had such a dreadful time since 
we got here. The house where we expected to find you, is 
on fire, and we thought of nothing else but that you had 
perished within it. But finally some one told us to come 
here, and — ” She paused horror-stricken ; her eyes had 
just fallen upon the little dead child and the moaning 
mother. 


5oo 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


** That is Jacqueline Japha,” whispered Mr. Sylvester 
“ We have found her, only to close her eyes, I fear." 

“ Jacqueline Japha ! ” Paula’s hands unclosed from his 
arm. 

“ She was in the large tenement house that burned first ; 
that is her child whose loss she is mourning.” 

“ Jacqueline Japha ! ” again fell with an indescribable 
tone from Paula’s lips. “ And who is that ? ” she asked, 
turning and indicating the silent figure by the wall. 

“ That is Roger Holt, the man who should have been her 
husband.” 

li Oh, 1 remember him,” she cried ; “ and her, I remem- 
ber her, and the little child too. But,” she suddenly ex- 
claimed, “ she told me then that she was not his mother.” 

“ And she did not know that she was ; the man had 
deceived her.” 

With a quick thrill Paula bounded forward. “ Jacqueline 
Japha,” she cried, falling with outstretched hands beside the 
poor creature ; “ thank God you are found at last ! ” 

But the woman was as insensible to this cry as she had 
been to all others. “ My baby,” she wailed, “ my baby, my 
own, own baby ! ” 

Paula recoiled in dismay, and for a moment stood looking 
down with fear and doubt upon the fearful being before her. 
But in another instant a heavenly instinct seized her, and 
ignoring the mother, she stooped over the child and tenderly 
kissed it. The woman at once woke from her stupor. 
“ My baby ! ” she cried, snatching the child up in her arms 


WOMANS LOVE. 


501 


with a gleam of wild jealousy ; “ nobody shall touch it but 
me. I killed it and it is all mine now 1 0 But in a moment 
she had dropped the child back into its place, and was going 
on with the same set refrain that had stirred her lips from 
the first. 

Paula was not to be discouraged. Laying her hand on 
the child’s brow, she gently smoothed back his hair, and 
when she saw the old gleam returning to the woman’s coun- 
tenance, said quietly, “ Are you going to carry it to Grote- 
well to be buried ? Margery Hamlin is waiting for you, you 
know ? ” 

The start which shook the woman’s haggard frame, 
encouraged her to proceed. 

“ Yes ; you know she has been keeping watch, and wait- 
ing for you so long ! She is quite worn out and disheartened ; 
fifteen years is a long time to hope against hope, Jacqueline.” 

The stare of the wretched creature deepened into a fierce 
and maddened glare. “ You don’t know what you are talking 
about,” cried she, and bent herself again over the child. 

Paula went on as if she had not spoken. “ Any one that 
is loved as much as you are, Jacqueline, ought not to give 
way to despair ; even if your child is dead, there is still 
some one left whom you can make supremely happy.” 

“ Him ?” the woman’s look seemed to say, as she turned 
and pointed with frightful sarcasm to the man at their back. 

Taula shrank and hastily shook her head. “ No, no, not 
him, but — Let me tell you a story,” she whispered eagerly. 
‘ In a certain country-town not far from here, there is a great 


502 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


empty house. It is dark, and cold, and musty. No one 
ever goes there but one old lady, who every night at six 
crosses its tangled garden, unlocks its great side door, enters 
within its deserted precincts, and for an hour remains there 
praying for one whose return she has never ceased to hope 
and provide for. She is kneeling there to-night, at this very 
hour, Jacqueline, and the love she thus manifests is greater 
than that of man to woman or woman to man. It is like that 
of heaven or the Christ.” 

The woman before her rose to her feet. She did not 
speak, but she looked like a creature before whose eyes a 
sudden torch had been waved. 

“ Fifteen years has she done this,” Paula solemnly 
continues. “She promised, you know; and she never has 
forgotten her promise.” 

With a cry the woman put out her hands. “ Stop ! ” she 
cried, “ stop ! I don’t believe it. No one loves like that : 
else there is a God and I — ” She paused, quivered, gave one 
wild look about her, and then with a quick cry, something 
between a moan and a prayer, succumbed to the pain of her 
injuries, and sank down insensible by the side of her dead 
child. 

With a reverent look Paula bent over her and kissed her 
seared and bleeding forehead. “ For Mrs. Hamlin’s sake,” 
she whispered, and quietly smoothed down the tattered 
clothing about the poor creature’s wasted frame. 

Mr. Sylvester turned quietly upon the man who had been 
the cause of all this misery. “I charge myself with the care 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


503 


of that woman,” said he, “ and with the burial of your child. 
It shall be placed in decent ground with all proper religious 
ceremonial.” 

1 What, you will do this ! ” cried Holt, a flush of real 
feeling for a moment disturbing the chalk-white pallor of his 
cheek. “Oh sir, this is Christian charity ; and I beg your 
pardon for all that I may have meditated against you. It 
was done for the child,” he went on wildly ; “ to get him 
the bread and butter he often lacked. I didn’t care so much 
for myself. I hated to see him hungry and cold and ailing ; 
I might have worked, but I detest work, and — But no matter 
about all that ; enough that I am done with endeavoring to 
extort money from you. Whatever may have happened in 
the past, you are free from my persecutions in the future. 
Henceforth you and yours can rest in peace.” 

“ That is well,” cried a voice over his shoulder, and 
Bertram with an air of relief stepped hastily forward. “ You 
must be very tired,” remarked he, turning to his uncle. “ If 
you will take charge of Paula, I will do what I can to see 
that this injured woman and the dead child are properly 
cared for. I am so relieved, sir, at this result,” he whispered, 
with a furtive wring of his uncle’s hand, “ that I must ex- 
press my joy in some way.” 

Mr. Sylvester smiled, but in a manner that reflected but 
little of the other’s satisfaction. “ Thank you,” said he, “ I 
am tired and will gladly delegate my duties to you. I trust 
you to do the most you can for both the living and the dead. 
That woman for all her seeming poverty is the possessor of 


504 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


a large fortune ; ” he whispered ; “ let her be treated as 
such." And with a final word to Holt who had sunk back 
against the wall in his old attitude of silent despair, Mr. 
Sylvester took Paula upon his arm, and quietly led her out 
of this humble but not unkind refuge. 


XLIII. 


DETERMINATION. 

44 But alas ! to make me 
A fixed figure for the time of scorn 
To point his slow unmoving finger at 1 Othbll*. 

44 Let me but bear your love. I’ll bear your cares.”— Hbnky V. 

A Paula ! ” 

They had reached home and were standing in the 
library. 

“ Yes,’' said she, lowering her head before his gaze with 
a sweet and conscious blush. 

“ Did you read the letter I left for you in my desk up 
stairs ? ” 

She put her hand to her bosom and drew forth the closely 
written sheet. “ Every word,” she responded, and smilingly 
returned it to its place. 

He started and his chest heaved passionately. “ You 
have read it,” he cried, “ and yet could follow me into that 
den of unknown dangers at an hour like this, and with no 
other guide than Bertram ? ” 

“ Yes,” she answered. 

He drew a deep breath and his brow lost its deepest 
shadow. “You do not despise me then,” he exclaimed 
“ My sin has not utterly blotted me out of your regard 5 ” 


506 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


The glance with which she leplied seemed to fill the 
whole room with its radiance. “ I am only beginning to 
realize the worth of the man who has hitherto been a mys- 
tery to me,” she declared. Then as he shook his head 
added with a serious air, “The question with all true hearts 
must ever be, not what a man has been, but what he is. He 
who for the sake of shielding the innocent from shame and 
sorrow, would have taken upon himself the onus of a past 
disgrace, is not unworthy a woman’s devotion.” 

Mr. Sylvester smiled mournfully, and stroked her hand 
which he had taken in his. “ Poor little one,” he murmured. 
“ I know not whether to feel proud or sorry for your trust 
and tender devotion. It would have been a great and un- 
speakable grief to me to have lost your regard, but it might 
have been better if I had ; it might have been much better 
for you if I had ! ” 

“ What, why do you say that ? ” she asked, with a startled 
gleam in her eye. “ Do you think I am so eager for ease 
and enjoyment, that it will be a burden for me to bear the 
l ain of those I love ? A past pain, too,” she added, “ that 
will grow less and less as the days go by and happiness in- 
creases.” 

He put her back with a quick hand. “ Do not make it 
any harder for me than necessary,” he entreated, “ Do you 
not see that however gentle may be your judgment of my 
deserts, we can never marry, Paula ? ” 

The eyes which were fixed on his, deepened passionately 
u No,” she whispered, “ no ; not if your remorse for the past 


WOMAN 1 S LOVE. 


507 


is all that separates us. The man who has conquered him- 
self, has won the right to conquer the heart of a woman. 1 
can say no more — ” She timidly held out her hand. 

He grasped it with a man’s impetuosity and pressed it to 
his heart, but he did not retain it. “ Blessings upon you, 
dear and noble heart ! ” he cried. “ God will hear my prayers 
and make you happy — but not with me. Paula,” he passion- 
ately continued, taking her in his arms and holding her to 
his breast, “ it cannot be. I love you — I will not, dare not 
say, how much — but love is no excuse for wronging you. 
My remorse is not all that separates us ; possible disgrace 
lies before me ; public exposure at all events ; I would 
indeed be lacking in honor were I to subject you to these.” 

“ But,” she stammered, drawing back to look into his 
face, “ I thought that was all over ; that the man had prom- 
ised silence ; that you were henceforth to be relieved from 
his persecutions ? I am sure he said so.” 

“ He did, but he forgot that my fate no longer rested 
upon his forbearance. The letter which records my admis- 
sion of sin was in his lawyer’s hands, Paula, and has already 
been despatched to Mr. Stuyvesant. Say what we will, 
rebel against it as we will, Cicely’s father knows by this time 
that the name of Sylvester is not spotless.” 

The cry which she uttered in her sudden pain and loss 
made him stoop over her with despairing fondness. fi Hush ! 
my darling, hush ! ” cried he. “ The trial is so heavy, I need 
all my strength to meet it. It breaks my heart to see you 
grieve. I cannot bear it. I deserve my fate, but you — Oh 


508 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


you — what have you done that you should be overwhelmed 
in my fall ! ” Putting her gently away from his breast, he 
drew himself up and with forced calmness said, “ I have yet 
to inform Mr. Stuyvesant upon which of the Sylvesters’ 
should rest the shadow of his distrust. To-night he believes 
n Bertram’s lack of principle, but to-morrow — ” 

Her trembling lips echoed the word. 

“ He shall know that the man who confessed to having 
done a wrong deed in the past, is myself, Paula.” 

The head which had fallen on her breast, rose as at the 
call of a clarion. “ And is it at the noblest moment of your 
life that you would shut me away from your side ? No, no. 
Heaven does not send us a great and mighty love for trivial 
purposes. The simple country maid whom you have some- 
times declared was as the bringer of good news to you, shall 
not fail you now.” Then slowly and with solemn assurance, 
“ If you go to Mr. Stuyvesant’s to-morrow, and you will, for 
that is your duty, you shall not go alone ; Paula Fairchild 
accompanies you.” 


XLIV. 


IN MR. STUYVESANT’S PARLORS 

‘ Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud 
Turn forth her silver lining on the night ? ” — Cohos. 

u Unworthy ? ” 

“ Yes.*’ 

Cicely stared at her father with wide-open and incredu- 
lous eyes. “ I cannot believe it,” she murmured ; “ no, I 
cannot believe it.” 

Her father drew up a chair to her side. “ My daughter,” 
said he, with unusual tenderness, “ I have hesitated to tell 
you this, fearing to wound you ; but my discretion will allow 
me to keep silence no longer. Bertram Sylvester is not an 
honest man, and the sooner you make up your mind to for- 
get him, the better.” 

“ Not honest ? ” You would scarcely have recognized 
Cicely’s voice. Her father’s hand trembled as he drew her 
back to his side. 

“ It is a hard revelation for me to make to you, after tes- 
tifying my approval of the young man. I sympathize with 
you, my child, but none the less I expect you to meet this 
disappointment bravely. A theft has been committed ir our 

bank — * 


5io 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ You do not accuse him of theft ! Oh father, father . 99 
“No,” he stammered. “I do not accuse him, but facts 
look very strongly against some one in our trust, and — ” 

“ But that is not sufficient,” she cried, rising in spite of 
his detaining hand till she stood erect before him. “You 
surely would not allow any mere circumstantial evidence to 
stand against a character as unblemished as his, even if he 
were not the man whom your daughter — ” 

He would not let her continue. “ I admit that I should 
be careful how I breathed suspicion against a man whose 
record was unimpeached,” he assented, “ but Bertram Syl- 
vester does not enjoy that position. Indeed, I have just 
received a communication which goes to show, that he once 
actually acknowledged to having perpetrated an act of 
questionable integrity. Now a man as young as he, who — ” 
“ But I cannot believe it,” she moaned. “ It is impossible, 
clearly impossible. How could he look me in the face with 
such a sin on his conscience ! He could not, simply could 
not. Why, father, his brow is as open as the day, his glance 
clear and unwavering as the sunlight. It is some dreadful 
mistake. It is not Bertram of whom you are speaking ! ” 
Her father sighed. “ Of whom else should it be ? Come 
my child, do you want to read the communication which I 
received last night ? Do you want to be convinced ? ” 

“ No, no ; ” she cried ; but quickly contradicted herself 
with a hurried, “Yes, yes, let me be made acquainted with 
what there is against him, if only that I may prove to you il 
is all a mistake.” 


WOMAN'S LOVb. 


H There is no mistake,” he muttered, handing her a 
folded paper. “ This statement was written two years ago , 
I witnessed it myself, though I little knew against whose 
honor it was directed. Read it, Cicely, and then remember 
that I have lost bonds out of my box at the bank, that could 
only have been taken by some one connected with the insti- 
tution.” 

She took the paper in her hand, and eagerly read it 
through. Suddenly she started and looked up. “ And you 
say that this was Bertram, this gentleman who allowed 
another man to accuse him of a past dishonesty ? ” 

“ So the person declares who forwarded me this state- 
ment ; and though he is a poor wretch and evidently not 
above making mischief, I do not know as we have any 
special reason to doubt his word.” 

Cicely’s eyes fell and she stood before her father with an 
air of indecision. “ I do not think it was Bertram,” she 
faltered, but said no more. 

“ I would to God for your sake, it was not ! ” he ex- 
claimed. “But this communication together with the loss 
we have sustained at the bank, has shaken my faith, Cicely. 
Young men are so easily led astray nowadays ; especially 
when playing for high stakes. A man who could leave his 
profession for the sake of winning a great heiress — ” 

“ Father ! ” 

“ I know he has made you think it was for love ; but 
when the woman whom a young man fancies, is rich, love 
and ambition run too closely together to be easily disen- 


512 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


tangled. And now, my dear, I have said my say and leave 
you to act according to the dictates of your judgment, sure 
that it will be in a direction worthy of your name and i reed' 
ing.” And stooping for a hasty kiss, he gave her a last fond 
look and quietly left the room. 

And Cicely ? For a moment she stood as if frozen in 
her place, then a great tremble seized her, and sinking down 
upon a sofa, she buried her face from sight, in a chaos of 
feeling that left her scarcely mistress of herself. But sud- 
denly she started up, her face flushed, her eyes gleaming, her 
whole delicate form quivering with an emotion more akin to 
hope than despair. 

“ I cannot doubt him,” she whispered ; “ it were as easy 
to doubt my own soul. He is worthy if I am worthy, true if 
I am true ; and I will not try to unlove him ! ” 

But soon the reaction came again, and she was about to 
give full sway to her grief and shame, when the parlor door 
opened — she herself was sitting in the extension room — and 
she saw Mr. Sylvester and Paula come in. She at once 
rose to her feet ; but she did not advance. A thousand 
hopes and fears held her enchained where she was ; besides 
there was something in the aspect of her friends, which made 
her feel as though a welcome even from her, would at that 
moment be an intrusion. 

“ They have come to see father,” she thought “ and — ” 

Ah what, Cicely ? 

Paula, who was too absorbed in her own feelings to 
glance into the extension room beyond, approached Mr 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 5 1 3 

Sylvester and laid her hand upon his arm. ‘Whatever 
comes,” said she, “truth, honor and love remain.” 

And he bowed his head and seemed to kiss K er hand, and 
Cicely observing the action, grew pale and dropped her eyes, 
realizing as by a lightning’s flash, both the nature of the feeling 
that prompted this unusual manifestation on his part, and the 
possible sorrows that lay before her dearest friend, if not be- 
fore herself, should the secret suspicions she cherished in re- 
gard to Mr. Sylvester prove true. When she had summoned up 
courage to glance again in their direction, Mr. Stuyvesant had 
entered the parlor and was nervously welcoming his guests. 

Mr. Sylvester waited for no preamble. “ I have come,” 
said he, in his most even and determined tones, “ to speak to 
you in regard to a communication from a man by the name 
of Holt, which I was told was to be sent to you last even- 
ing. Did you receive such a one ? ” 

Mr. Stuyvesant flushed, grew still more nervous in his 
manner and uttered a short, “ I did,” in a tone severer than 
he perhaps intended. 

“ It will not be too much for me, then, to conclude, that 
in your present estimation my nephew stands committed to 
B past dishonesty ? ” 

“ It has been one of my chief sources of regret — one of 
them I say,” repeated Mr. Stuyvesant, “ that any loss of 
esteem on the part of your nephew, must necessarily reflect 
upon the peace if not the honor of a man I hold in such high 
regard as yourself. I assure you I feel it quite as a brother 
might, quite as a brother.” 


5‘4 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Mr. Sylvester at once rose. “ Mr. Stuyvesant,” declared 
he, “ my nephew is as honest a man as walks this city’s 
streets. If you will accord me a few minutes private con- 
versation, I think I can convince ) r ou so.” 

“ I should be very glad,” replied Mr. Stuyvesant, glanc- 
ing towards the extension-room where he had left his 
daughter. “I have always liked the young man.” Then 
with a quick look in the other’s face, “You are not well, Mr. 
Sylvester ? ” 

“ Thank you, I am not ill ; let us say what we have to, at 
once, if you please.” And with just a glance at Paula, he 
followed the now somewhat agitated director from the room. 

Cicely who had started forward at their departure, glanced 
down the long parlor before her, and hastily faltered back ; 
Paula was praying. But in a few moments her feelings 
overcame her timidity, and hurrying into her friend’s pres- 
ence, she threw her arms about her neck and pressed her 
cheek to hers. “ Let us pray together,” she whisp jd. 

Paula drew back and looked her friend in the face 
“ You know what all this means ? ” she asked. 

“ I guess,” was the low reply. 

Paula checked a sob and clasped Cicely to her bosom 
4 He loves me,” she faltered, “ and he is doing at this mo- 
ment what he believes will separate us. He is a noble man, 
Cicely, noble as Bertram, though he once did — ” She 
paused. “ It is for him to say what, not I,” she softly con- 
cluded. 

“Then Bertram is noble,” Cicely timidly pat in. 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


515 


M Have you ever doubted it ? ” 

“ No.” 

And liiding their blushes on each other’s shoulders the 
two girls sat breathlessly waiting, while the clock ticked 
away in the music-room and the moments came and went 
that determined their fate. Suddenly they both rose. Mr. 
Stuyvesant and Mr. Sylvester were descending the stairs. 
Mr. Sylvester came in first. Walking straight up to Paula, 
he took her in his arms and kissed her on the forehead. 

“ My betrothed wife ! ” he whispered. 

With a start of incredulous joy, Paula looked up. His 
glance was clear but strangely solemn and peaceful. 

“ He has heard all I had to say,” added he ; “ he is a 
just man, but he is also a merciful one. Like you he de- 
clares that not what a man was, but w*hat he is, determines 
the judgment of true men concerning him.” And taking her 
on his arm, he stood waiting for Mr. Stuyvesant who now 
came in. 

“ Where is my daughter ? ” were that gentleman’s words, 
as he closed the door behind him. 

“ Here, papa.” 

He held out his hand, and she sprang towards him. 
‘ Cicely,” said he, not without some tokens of emotion in his 
voice, “ it is only right that I should inform you that we 
were all laboring under a mistake, in charging Mr. Bertram 
Sylvester with the words that were uttered in the Dey Street 
coffee-house two years ago. Mr. Sylvester has amply con- 
vinced me that his nephew neither was, nor could have been 


5 16 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

present there at that time. It must have been some othei 
man, of similar personality.” 

“ Oh thank you, thank you ! ” Cicely’s look seemed to say 
to Mr. Sylvester. “ And he is quite freed from reproach ? ” 
she asked, with a smiling glance into her father’s face. 

A hesitancy in Mr. Stuyvesant’s manner, struck with a 
chill upon more than one heart in that room. 

“ Yes,” he admitted at last ; “ the mere fact that a mys- 
terious robbery has been committed upon certain effects in 
the bank of which he is cashier, is not sufficient to awaken 
distrust as to his integrity, but — ” 

At that moment the door-bell rung. 

“Your father would say,” cried Mr. Sylvester, taking ad- 
vantage of the momentary break, to come to the relief of his 
host, “ that my nephew is too much of a gentleman to desire 
to press any claim he may imagine himself as possessing over 
you, while even the possibility of a shadow rests upon his 
name. 

“ The man who stole the bonds will be found,” said Cicely 

And as if in echo to her words the parlor door opened, 
and a messenger from the bank stepped briskly up to Mr, 
Stuyvesant. 

“ A note from Mr. Folger,” said he, with a quick glance 
at Mr. Sylvester. 

Mr. Stuyvesant took the paper handed him, read it hastily 
through, and looked up with an air of some bewilderment. 

“ I can hardly believe it possible,” cried he, “ but Hop 
good has absconded.” 


WOMAN'S LOVE . 


517 


“ Hopgood absconded ? ” 

‘‘Yes; is not that the talk at the bank? ’ inquired Mr. 
Stuyvesant, turning to the messenger. 

“ Yes sir. He has not been seen since yesterday after- 
noon when he left before the bank was closed for the night. 
His wife says she thinks he meant to run away, for before 
going, he came into the room where she was, kissed her and 
then kissed the child ; besides it seems that he took with 
him some of his clothes.” 

“ Humph ! and I had as much confidence in that man — *' 

“ As I have now,” came from Mr. Sylvester as the door 
closed upon the messenger. “ If Hopgood has run away, it 
was from some generous but mistaken idea of sacrificing 
himself to the safety of another whom he may possibly be- 
lieve guilty.” 

“ No,” rejoined Mr. Stuyvesant, “ for here is a note from 
him that refutes that supposition.” It is addressed to me 
and runs thus : 

“ Dear Sir. — I beg your pardon and that of Mr. Syl- 
vester for leaving my duties in this abrupt manner. But I 
have betrayed my trust and am no longer worthy of confi- 
dence. I am a wretched man and find it impossible to face 
those who have believed in my honesty and discretion. If I 
can bring the money back, you shall see me again, but if not, 
be kind to my wife and little one, for the sake of the three 
years when I served the bank faithfully. 

“John Hopgood.' 


5 1 8 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 

“ I don’t understand it,” cried Mr. Sylvester, “ that 
looks — ” 

u As if he knew where the money was.” 

“ I begin to hope,” breathed Cicely. 

Her father turned and surveyed her. “ This puts a new 
aspect on matters,” said he. 

She glanced up beaming. “ Oh, will you, do you say, 
that you think the shadow of this crime has at last found 
the spot upon which it can rightfully rest ? ” 

“ It would not be common sense in me to deny that it 
has most certainly shifted its position.” 

With a radiant look at Cicely, Paula crossed to Mr. 
Stuyvesant’s side, and laying her hand on his sleeve, whis- 
pered a word or two in his ear. He immediately glanced 
out of the window at the carriage standing before the door, 
then looked back at her and nodded with something like a 
smile. In another moment he stood at the front door. 

“ Be prepared,” cried Paula to Cicely. 

It was well she spoke, for when in an instant later Mr 
Stuyvesar.t re-entered the parlor with Bertram at his side, 
the rapidly changing cheek of the gentle girl showed that 
the surprise, even though thus tempered, was almost too 
much for her self-possession. 

Mr. Stuyvesant did not wait for the inevitable embarrass 
raent of the moment to betray itself in words. “ Mr. Sylves- 
ter,” said he, to the young cashier, “we have just received 
a piece of news from the bank, that throws unexpected 
light upon the robbery we were discussing yesterday. Hop 


WOMA N'S LOVE. 5 1 9 

good has absconded, and acknowledges here in writing that 
he had something to do with the theft ! ” 

“ Ilopgood, the janitor ! ” The exclamation was di- 
rected not to Mr. Stuyvesant but to Mr. Sylvester, towards 
whom Bertram turned with looks of amazement. 

“ Yes, it is the greatest surprise I ever received,” returned 
that gentleman. 

“And Mr. Sylvester,” continued Mr. Stuyvesant, with 
nervous rapidity and a generous attempt to speak lightly, 
“ there is a little lady here who is so shaken by the news, 
that nothing short of a word of reassurance on your part 
will comfort her.” 

Bertram’s eye followed that of Mr. Stuyvesant, and fell 
upon the blushing cheek of Cicely. With a flushing of his 
own brow, he stepped hastily forward. 

“ Miss Stuyvesant ! ” he cried, and looking down in her 
face, forgot everything else in his infinite joy and satisfac- 
tion. 

“ Yes,” announced the father with abrupt decision, “ she 
*s yours ; you have fairly earned her.” 

Bertram bowed his head with irrepressible emotion, and 
for a moment the silence of perfect peace if not of awe. 
reigned over the apartment ; but suddenly a low, determined 
“ No ! ” was heard, and Bertram turning towards Mr. Stuy- 
vesant, exclaimed, “You are very good, and the joy of this 
moment atones for many an hour of grief and impatience ; 
but I have not earned her yet. The fact that Hopgood ad- 
mits to having had something to do with the robbery, does 


520 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


not sufficiently exonerate the officers of the bank from all 
connection with the affair, to make it safe or honorable in 
me to unqualifiedly accept the inestimable boon of your 
daughter’s regard. Till the real culprit is in custody and 
the mystery entirely cleared away, my impatience must con- 
tinue to curb itself. I love your daughter too dearly to 
bring her anything but the purest of reputations. Am I not 
right, Miss Stuyvesant ? ” 

She cast a glance at her father, and bowed her head. 
“ You are right,” she repeated. 

And Mr. Stuyvesant, with a visible lightening of his whole 
aspect, took the young man by the hand, arid with as much 
geniality as his nature would allow, informed him that he 
was at last convinced that his daughter had made no mis- 
take when she expressed her trust in Bertram Sylvester. 

And in other eyes than Cicely’s, shone the light of 
latisfied love and unswerving faith. 


XLV. 


u THE HOUR OF SIX IS SACRED.” 

“ Mightier far 

Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway 
Of magic potent over sun and star, 

Is love, though oft to agony distrest, 

And though its favorite seat be feeble woman’s breast.” 

-WoRDSwon*. 

It was at the close of a winter afternoon. Paula who 
had returned to Grotewell for the few weeks preceding hei 
marriage, sat musing in the window of her aunt’s quaint lit- 
tle parlor. Her eyes were on the fields before her all rosy 
with the departing rays of the sun, but her thoughts were far 
away. They were with him she best loved — with Cicely, wait- 
ing in patience for the solution of the mystery of the stolen 
bonds; with Bertram, eagerly, but as yet vainly, engaged in 
searching for the vanished janitor ; and last but not least, 
with that poor, wretched specimen of humanity moaning 
away her life in a New York hospital; — for the sight of the 
Japlia house, in a walk that day, had reawakened her most 
vivid remembrances of Jacqueline. All that had ever been 
done and suffered by this forsaken creature, lay on her heart 
like a weight ; and the question which had disturbed her 
since her return to Grotewell, viz., whether or not she ought 
to acquaint Mrs. Hamlin with the fact that she had seen and 


522 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


spoken to the object of her love and prayers, pressed upon 
her mind with an insistence that required an answer. There 
was so much to be said for and against it. Mrs. Hamlin was 
not well, and though still able to continue her vigil, showed 
signs of weakening, day by day. It might be a comfort to 
her to know that another’s eyes had vested on the haggard 
form for whose approach she daily watched ; that another’* 
kiss had touched the scarred and pal'id forehead she longed 
to fold against her breast ; that the woman she loved and of 
whose fate she had no intimation, was li dng and well cared 
for, though her shelter was that of a hospital and her pros- 
pects those of the grave. 

On the other hand, the awful nature of ths circumstances 
which had brought her to her present condition, were s'ich 
as to make any generous heart pause before shocking the 
love and trust of such a woman as Mrs. Hamlin, by a rela- 
tion of the criminal act by which Jacqueline had slain hei 
child and endangered her own existence. Better let tbe 
poor old lady go on hoping against hope till she sinks into 
her grave, than destroy life and hope at once by a revelation 
of her darling’s reckless depravity. 

And yet if the poor creature in the hospital might be 
moved to repentance by some word from Mrs. Hamlin, 
would it not be a kindness to the latter to allow her, though 
even at the risk of her life, to accomplish the end for which 
she indeed professed to live ? 

The mind of Paula was as yet undecided, when a child 
from the village passed the window, and seeing her sitting 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


523 


there, handed her a small package with the simple message 
that Mrs. Hamlin was very ill. It contained, as she antici- 
pated, the great key to the Japha mansion, and understanding 
without further words, what was demanded of her, Paula 
prepared to keep the promise she had long ago made to this 
devoted woman. For. though she knew the uselessness of 
the vigil proposed to her, she none the less determined to 
complete it. Easier to sit an hour in that dark old house, 
than to explain herself to Mrs. Hamlin. Besides, the time 
was good for prayer, and God knows the wretched object of 
all this care and anxiety, stood in need of all the petitions 
that might be raised for her. 

Telling her aunts that she had a call to make in the vil- 
lage, she glided hurriedly away, and ere she realized all to 
which she was committed, found herself standing in the 
now darkened streets, before the grim door of that dread 
and mysterious mansion. Never had it looked more for- 
bidding; never had the two gruesome poplars cast a deeper 
shadow, or rustled with a more woful sound in the chill 
evening air. The very windows seemed to repel her with 
their darkened panes, behind which she could easily im- 
agine the spirits of the dead, moving and peering. A chill 
not unlike that of terror, assailed her limbs, and it was with 
a really heroic action that she finally opened the gate and 
glided up the path made by the daily steps of her aged 
friend. To thrust the big key into the lock required another 
effort, but that once accomplished, she stilled every tumul- 
tuous beating of her heart, by crying under her breath 


524 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ She has done this for one whom she has not seen for fif 
teen years ; shall I then hesitate, who know the real neces 
sity of her for whom this hour is made sacred ? ” 

The slow swinging open of the door was like an ushering 
ir to the abode of ghosts, but she struck a light at once, and 
soon had the satisfaction of beholding the dismal room with 
its weird shadows, resolve into its old and well remembered 
aspect. The ancient cabinet and stiff hair-cloth sofa, Colo- 
nel Japha’s chair by the table, together with all the other 
objects that had attracted her attention in her former visit, 
confronted her again with the same appearance of standing 
ready and waiting, which had previously so thrilled her. 
Only she was alone this time, and terror mingled with her 
awe. She scarcely dared to glance at the doors that led to 
other portions of the house. In her present mood it would 
seem so natural for them to swing open, and let upon her 
horrified gaze the stately phantom of the proud old colonel 
or the gentler shade of Jacqueline’s mother. The moan 
of the wind in the chimney was dreadful to her, and the 
faint rumbling sounds of mice scampering in the walls, made 
her start as though a voice had spoken. 

But presently the noise of a sleigh careering by the 
house recalled her to herself, and remembering it was but 
early nightfall, she sat down in a chair by the door, and pre- 
pared to keep her vigil with suitable patience and equanimity, 
Suddenly she recollected the clock on the mantelpiece and 
how she had seen Mrs. Hamlin wind it, and rising up, she 
followed her example, sighing unconsciously to find how 


WOMAN'S LOVE . 


525 


many of the sixty minutes had yet to tick themselves away, 
“ Can I endure it ! ” she thought, and shuddered as she pic- 
tured to herself the dim old staircase behind those doors, 
and the empty rooms above, and the little Bible lying thicket 
than ever with dust, on the yellowed pillows of Jacqueline’s 
bed. 

Suddenly she stood still ; the noise she had just heard, 
was not made by the pattering of mice along the rafters, or 
even the creaking of the withered vines that clung against 
the walls ! It was a human sound, a clicking as of the gate 
without, a crunching as of feet dragging slowly over the 
snow. Was Mrs. Hamlin coming after all, or — she could 
not formulate her fear ; a real and palpable danger from the 
outside world had never crossed her fancy till now. What if 
some stranger should enter, some tramp, some — a step on the 
porch without made her hair rise on her forehead ; she 
clasped her hands and stood trembling, when a sudden 
moan startled her ears, followed by the sound of a heavy fall 
on the threshold, and throwing aside all hesitation, she flung 
herself forward, and tearing open the door, saw — oh, angels 
that rejoice in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, let 
your voices go up in praise this night, for Jacqueline Japha 
has returned to the home of her fathers ! 

She had fainted, and lay quite still on the threshold, but 
Paula, who was all energy now, soon had her in the centre of 
the sitting-room, and was applying to her such restoratives 
as had been provided against this very emergency. She 
was holding the poor weary head on her knee, when the wan 


526 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


eyes opened, and looking up, grew wild with a disappoint- 
ment which Paula was quick to appreciate. 

“ You are looking for Margery,” said she. “ Margery 
will come by-and-by ; she is not well to-night and I am 
aking her place, but when she hears you have returned, it 
will take more than sickness to keep her to her bed. I am 
Paula, and I love you, too, and welcome you — oh, welcome 
you so gladly.’ 

The yearning look which had crept into the woman’s 
bleared and faded eyes, deepened and softened strangely. 

“ You are the one who told me about Margery,” said 
she, “ and bade me bring my baby here to be buried. I 
remember, though I seemed to pay no heed then. Night 
and day through all my pain, I have remembered, and as soon 
as I could walk, stole away from the hospital. It has killed 
me, but I shall at least die in my father’s house.” 

Paula stooped and kissed her. “ I am going to get your 
bed ready,” said she. And without any hesitation now, she 
opened the door that led into those dim inner regions that 
but a few minutes before had inspired her with such dread. 

She went straight to Jacqueline’s room. “ It must all be 
according to Mrs. Hamlin’s wishes,” she cried, and lit the 
fire on the hearth, and pulled back the curtains yet farther 
from the bed, and gave the benefit of her womanly touch to 
the various objects about her, till cheerfulness seemed to 
reign in a spot once so peopled with hideous memories. 
Going back to Jacqueline, she helped her to rise, and throw- 
ing her arm about her waist, led her into the hall. But here 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


52 / 


memory, ghastly accusing memory, stepped in, and catching 
the wretched woman in its grasp, shook her, body and soul, 
till her shrieks reverberated through that desolate house 
But Paula with gentle persistence urged her on, and smiling 
upon her like an angel of peace and mercy, led her up step 
after step of that dreadful staircase, till at last she saw her 
safely in the room of her early girlhood. 

The sight of it seemed at first to horrify but afterwards 
to soothe the forlorn being thus brought face to face with 
her own past. She moved over to the fire and held out her 
two cramped hands to the blaze, as if she saw an altar of 
mercy in its welcoming glow. From these she passed tot- 
tering and weak to the embroidery-frame, which she looked 
at for a moment with something almost like a smile ; but she 
hurried by the mirror, and scarcely glanced at a portrait of 
herself which hung on the wall over her head. To sink on 
the bed seemed to be her object, and thither Paula accom- 
panied her. But when she came to where it stood, and saw 
the clothes turned dqwn and the pillows heaped at the head, 
^antf the little Bible lying open for her in the midst, she gave 
a great and mighty sob, and flinging herself down upon her 
knees, wept with a breaking up of her whole nature, in which 
her sins, red though they were as crimson, seemed to feel the 
touch of the Divine love, and vanish away in the oblivion 
He prepares for all His penitent ones. 

When everything was prepared and Jacqueline was laid 
quiet in bed, Paula stole out and down the stairs and 
wended her way to Mrs. Hamlin’s cottage. She found her 


528 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES , . 


sitting up, but far from well, and very feeble. At the first 
sight of Paula’s face, she started erect and seem to forget 
her weakness in a moment. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked ; “ you look as though you had 
been gazing on the faces of angels. Has — has my hope 
come true at last ? Has Jacqueline returned ? Oh, has my 
poor, lost, erring child come back ? ” 

Paula drew near and gently steadied Mrs. Hamlin’s sway- 
ing form. “ Yes,” she smiled ; and with the calmness of one 
who has entered the gates of peace, whispered in low and 
reverent tones : “ She lies in the bed that you spread for 
her, with the Bible held close to her breast.” 

There are moments when the world about us seems to 
pause ; when the hopes, fears and experiences of all hu- 
manity appear to sway away and leave us standing alone in 
the presence of our own great hope or scarcely compre- 
hended fear. Such a moment was that which saw Paula re- 
enter Jacqueline’s presence with Mrs. Hamlin at her side. 

Leaving the latter near the door, she went towards*the 
bed. Why did she recoil and glance back at Mrs. Iiamlm 
with that startled and apprehensive look ? The face of 
Jacqueline was changed — changed as only one presence 
could change it, though the eyes were clearer than when 
she left her a few minutes before, and the lips were not 
without the shadow of a smile. 

“ She is dying,” whispered Paula, coming back to Mrs 
Hamlin ; “ dying, and you have waited so long ! ” 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


529 


Bat the look that met hers from that aged face, was not 
one of grief ; and startled, she knew not why, Paula drew 
aside, while Mrs. Hamlin crossed the room and quietly 
knelt down by her darling’s side. 

“ Margery ! ” 

‘ Jacqueline ! ” 

The two cries rang through the room, then all was quiet 
again. 

“You have come back!” were the next words Paula 
heard. “ How could I ever have doubted that you would ! ” 

“ I have been driven back by awful suffering,”* was the 
answer; and another silence fell. Suddenly Jacqueline’s 
voice was heard. “ Love slew me, and now love has saved 
me ! ” exclaimed she. And there came no answer to that 
cry, and Paula felt the shadow of a great awe settle down 
upon her, and moving nearer to where the aged woman 
knelt by her darling’s bedside, she looked in her bended face 
and then in the one upturned on the pillow, and knew that 
of all the hearts that but an instant before had beat with 
earth’s deepest emotion in that quiet room, one alone 
throbbed on to thank God and take courage. 

And the fire which had been kindled to welcome the 
prodigal back, burned on ; and from the hollow depths oi 
the great room below, came the sound of a clock as it struck 
the hour, seven ! 


XLV1. 


THE MAN CUMMINS. 

* Oh dry and night, but this is wondrous strange.” -Henry V. 

Shut up in measureless content”— Othei-IjO. 

The lights were yet shining in Mr. Stuyvesant’s parlors 
though the guests were gone, who but a short time before 
had assembled there to witness the marriage of Cicely’s dear 
friend, Paula. 

At one end of the room stood Mr. Sylvester and Ber- 
tram, the former gazing with the eyes of a bridegroom, at the 
delicate white-clad figure of Paula, just leaving the apart- 
ment with Cicely. 

“ I have but one cause for regret,” said Mr. Sylvester as 
the door closed. “ I could have wished that you and Cicely 
had participated in our joy and received the minister’s bene- 
diction at the same moment as ourselves.” 

“Yes,” said Bertram with a short sigh. “But it will 
come in time. It cannot be but that our efforts must finally 
succeed. I have just had a new idea; that of putting the 
watchman on the hunt for Hopgood. They are old friends, 
and he ought to know all the other’s haunts and possible 
hiding-places.” 

“If Fanning could have helped us, he would have told 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


531 


us long ago. He knows that Hopgood is missing and thal 
we are ready to pay well for any information concerning 
him.” 

“ But they are old cronies, and possibly Fanning is keep- 
ing quiet out of consideration for his friend.” 

“ No ; I have had a talk with Fanning, and there was no 
mistaking his look of surprise when told the other had run 
away under suspicion of being connected with a robbery on 
the bank’s effects. He knows no more of Hopgood than we 
do, or his wife does, or the police even. It is a strange mys- 
tery, and one to which I fear we shall never obtain the key. 
But don't let me discourage you ; after a suitable time Mr. 
Stuyvesant will — ” 

He paused, for that gentleman was approaching him. 

“ There is a man outside who insists upon seeing me ; 
says he knows there has just been a wedding here, but that 
the matter he has to communicate is very important, and 
won’t bear putting off. The name on his card is Cummins ; 
I am afraid I shall have to admit him, that is, if you have no 
objection ? ” 

Mr. Sylvester and Bertram at once drew back with ready 
acquiescence. They had scarcely taken their stand at the’ 
other end of the apartment, when the man came in. lie 
was of robust build, round, precise and business-like 
He had taken off his hat, but still wore his overcoat ; his 
face in spite of a profusion of red whiskers and a decided 
pair of goggles, was earnest and straightforward. He 
walked at once up to Mr Stuyvesant. 


532 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ Your pardon,” said he, in a quick tone. “ But I heai 
you have been somewhat exercised of late over the disap- 
pearance of certain bonds from one of the boxes in the 
Madison Bank. I am a detective, and in the course of my 
duty have come upon a few facts that may help to explain 
matters. 

Mr. Sylvester and Bertram at once started forward ; this 
was a topic that demanded their attention as well as that 
of the master of the house. 

The man cast them a quick look from behind his goggles, 
and seeming to recognize them, included them in his next 
question. 

“ What do you think of the watchman, Fanning ? ” 

“ Think ? we dont think,” uttered Mr. Stuyvesant sharply. 
“ He has been in the employ of the bank for twelve years, 
and we know him to be honest.” 

“Yet he is the man who stole your bonds.” 

“ Impossible ! ” 

“ The very man.” 

Mr. Sylvester stepped up to him. “ Who are you, and 
how do you know this ? ” 

“ I have said my name is Cummins, and I know this, be- 
cause I have wormed myself into the man’s confidence and 
have got the bonds, together with his confession, here in my 
pocket.” And he drew out the long lost bonds, which he 
handed to their owner, with a bit of paper on which was in- 
scribed in the handwriting of the watchman, an acknowl- 
edgment to the effect that he, alone and unassisted, had 


WOMAA r ’S LOVE. 


533 


perpetrated the robbery which had raised such scandal in 
the bank and led to the disappearance of Hopgood.” 

“And the man himself? ” cried Bertram, when they had 
all read this. “ Where is he ? ” 

“ Oh, I allowed him to escape.” 

Mr. Sylvester frowned.. 

“ There is something about this I don’t understand, 
said he. “ How came you to take such an interest in this 
matter ; and why did you let the man escape after acknowl- 
edging his crime ? ” 

With a quick, not undignified action, Cummins stepped 
back. “Gentlemen,” said he, “ it is allowable in a detective 
in the course of his duty, to resort to means for eliciting 
the truth, that in any other cause and for any other purpose, 
would be denominated as unmanly, if not mean and con- 
temptible. When I heard of this robbery, as I did the day 
after its perpetration, my mind flew immediately to the 
watchman as the possible culprit. 1 did not know that he 
had done the deed, and I did not see how he could have 
possessed the means of doing it, but I had been acquainted 
with him for some time, and certain expressions which I had 
overheard him use — expressions that had passed over me 
lightly at the time, now recurred to my mind with startling 
distinctness. ‘ If a man knew the combination of the vault 
door, how easily he could make himself rich from the contents 
of those boxes ! ’ was one, I remember ; and another, ‘ I have 
worked in the bank for twelve years and have not so much 
money laid up against a rainy day, as would furnish Mr 


534 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


Sylvester in cigars for a month.’ The fact that he had no 
opportunity to learn the combination, was the only stum- 
bling-block in the way of my conclusions. But that ob- 
stacle was soon removed. In a talk with the janitor’s wife — 
a good woman, sirs, but a trifle conceited — I learned that he 
had once had the very opportunity of which I speak, pro- 
vided he was smart enough to recognize the fact. The way 
it came about was this. Hopgood, who always meant to dc 
about the right thing, as I know, was one morning very sick, 
so sick that when the time came for him to go down and 
open the vaults for the day, he couldn’t stir from his bed, or 
at least thought he couldn’t. Twice had the watchman rung 
for him, and twice had he tried to get up, only to fall back 
again on his pillow. At last the call became imperative ; the 
clerks would soon be in, and the books were not even in 
readiness for them. Calling his wife to him, he asked if she 
thought she could open the vault door provided she knew 
the combination. She returned a quite eager, 1 yes,’ being a 
naturally vain woman and moreover a little sore over the 
fact that her husband never entrusted her with any of his 
secrets. ‘ Then,’ said he, ‘ listen to these three numbers that 
I give you ; and turn the knob accordingly,’ explaining the 
matter in a way best calculated to enlighten her as to what 
she had to do. She professed herself as understanding per- 
fectly and went off in quite a flutter of satisfaction to ac- 
complish her task. But though he did not know it at the 
time, it seems that her heart failed her when she got into the 
hall, and struck with fear lest she should forget the numbers 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


535 


before she got to the foot of the stairs, she came back, and 
carefully wrote them down on a piece of paper, armed with 
which she started for the second time to fulfil her task. The 
watchman was in the bank when she entered, and to his ex- 
pressions of surprise, she answered that her husband was ill 
and that she was going to open the vaults. He offered to 
help her, but she stared at him with astonishment, and wait- 
ing till he had walked to the other end of the bank, pro- 
ceeded to the vault door, and after carefully consulting the 
paper in her hand, was about to turn the knob as directed, 
when Hopgood himself came into the room. He was too 
anxious, he said, to keep in bed, and though he trembled at 
every step, came forward and accomplished the task himself. 
He did not see the paper in his wife's hand, nor notice her 
when she tore it up and threw the pieces in the waste-basket 
near-by, but the watchman may have observed her, and as 
it afterwards proved, did ; and thus became acquainted with 
the combination that unlocked the outer vault doors.” 

“ Humph ! ” broke in Mr. Sylvester, “ if this is true, why 
didn’t Hopgood inform me of the matter when I questioned 
him so closely ? ” 

“ Because he had forgotten the circumstance. He was 
in a fever at the time, and having eventually unlocked the 
vault himself, lost sight of the fact that he had previously 
sent his wife to do it. He went back to his bed after the 
clerks came in, and did not get up again till night. He may 
have thought the whole occurrence part of the delirium 
which more than once assailed him that day ” 


536 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“ I remember his being sick,” said Bertram ; “ it was twc 
or three days before the robbery.” 

“ The very day before,” corrected the man ; “ but let me 
tell my story in my own way. Having learned from Mrs. 
Hopgood of this opportunity which had been given to 
Fanning, l made up my mind to sift the matter. Being as I 
have said a friend of his, I didn’t want to peach on him 
unless he was guilty. To blast an honest man’s reputation, 
is, I think, one of the meanest tricks of which a fellow can 
be guilty : but the truth I had to know, and in order to 
learn it, a deep and delicate game was necessary. Gentle- 
men, when the police have strong suspicions against a 
person whose reputation is above reproach and whose con- 
duct affords no opportunity for impeachment, they set a 
springe for him. One of their number disguises himself, 
and making the acquaintance of this person, insinuates him- 
self by slow degrees — often at the cost of months of effort — 
into his friendship and if possible into his confidence. ’Tis 
a detestable piece of business, but it is all that will serve in 
some cases, and has at least the merit of being as dangerous 
as it is detestable. This plan, I undertook with Fanning. 
Changing my appearance to suit the necessities of the case, 
I took board in the small house in Brooklyn where he puts 
up, and being well acquainted with his tastes, knew how to 
adapt myself to his liking. He was a busy man, and being 
obliged by his duties to turn night into day, had not much 
time to bestow upon me or any one else ; but heedful of 
this, I managed to make the most of the spare moments 


WOMAN'S LOVE. 


537 


Inat saw us together, and ere long we were very good com- 
rades, and further on, very good friends. The day when I 
first ventured to suggest that honesty was all very well as long 
as it paid, was a memorable one to me. In that cast of the 
die I was either to win or lose the game I had undertaken 
I won. After a feint or two, to see if I were in earnest, he 
fell into the net, and though he did not commit himself 
then, it was not long before he came to me, and deliberately 
requested my assistance in disposing of some bonds which 
he was smart enough to acquire, but not daring enough to 
attempt to sell. Of course the whole story came out, and I 
was sympathetic enough till I got the bonds into my hands, 
then — But I leave you to imagine what followed. Enough 
that I wrung this confession from him, and that in considera- 
tion of the doubtful game I had played upon him, let him 
go where he is by this time beyond the chance of pursuit.” 

“But your duty to your superior; your oath as a mem- 
ber of the force ? ” 

“ My superior is here ! ” said the man pointing to Mr. 
Sylvester ;• “ an unconscious one I own, but still my supe- 
rior; and as for my being a member of the force, that was 
true five years ago, but not to-day.” And brushing off his 
whiskers with one hand and taking off his goggles with the 
other, Hop good, the janitor, stood before them ! 

It was a radiant figure that met Cicely, when she came 
down stairs with Paula, and a joyous group that soon sur- 
rounded the now blushing and embarrassed janitor, with 


538 


THE o WORD OF DAMOCLES. 


questions and remarks concerning this great and unexpected 
development of affairs. But the fervor with which Mr. Stuy- 
vesant clasped Bertram’s hand, and the look with which Cicely 
turned from her young lover to bestow a final kiss upon the 
departing bride, was worth all the pains and self-denial of 
the last few weeks — or so the janitor thought, who with a 
quicker comprehension than usual, had divined the situation 
and rejoiced in the result. But the most curious thing of all 
was to observe how, with the taking off of his goggles, Hop- 
good had relapsed into his old shrinking, easily embarrassed 
self. The man who but a few minutes before had related in 
their hearing a clear and succinct narrative, now shrank if a 
question was put him, and stammered in quite his ancient 
fashion, when he answered Mr. Sylvester’s shake of the hand, 
by a hurried : 

“I am going to see my wife now, sir. She’s a good 
woman, if a little flighty, and will be the last one in the fu- 
ture to beg me to put more confidence in her. Will you tell 
me where she is, sir ? ” 

Mr. Sylvester informed him ; then added, “ But look 
here, Hopgood, answer me one thing before you go. Why 
is it that with such talents as you possess, you didn’t stay 
in the police force ? You are a regular genius in your way 
and ought not to drone away your existence as a janitor.” 

1 Ah, sir,” replied the other, shaking his head, " a man 
who is only capable of assuming one disguise, isn’t good for 
much as a professional detective. Goggles and red whiskers 
will deceive one rogue, but not fifty. My eyes were my bane 


WOMAN'S LOVE . 


539 


sir, and ultimately cost me my place. While I could cover 
them up I was all right. It not only made a man of me, leav- 
ing me free to talk and freer to think, but disguised me so, 
my best friends couldn’t recognize me ; but after awhile my 
goggles were too well known for me to be considered of 
much further use to the department, and I was obliged to 
send in my resignation. It is too bad, but I have no ver- 
satility, sir. I’m either the clumsy, stammering creature 
you have always known, or else I am the man Cummins you 
saw here a few minutes ago.” 

“ In either case an honest fellow,” answered Mr. Sylves- 
ter, and allowed the janitor to depart. 

One more scene, and this in the house which Paula is 
henceforth to make a home for herself and its once melan- 
choly owner. They have come back from their wedding- 
journey, and are standing in their old fashion, he at the 
foot, and she half way up the stairs. Suddenly she turns 
and descends to his side. 

“ No, I will not wait,” said she. “ Here, on this spot we 
both love so well, and in this the first hour of our return, I 
will unburden my mind of what I have to say. Edward, is 
there nothing of all the past that still rests upon you like a 
shadow? Not one little regret you could wish taken 
away ? ” 

“ No,” said he, enfolding her in his arms with a solemn 
smile. ” The great gift which I hold is the fruit of that past 
perhaps ; I cannot wish it changed.” 


$ 4 £ 


THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 


“But the sense of obligation never fulfilled, would you 
not be happier if that were removed ? ” 

“ Perhaps,” he said, “ but it cannot De now. I shal 
have to live without being perfectly happy.” 

She lifted her face and her smile shone like a star. “ Oh 
God is good,” she cried, “ you shall not lack being perfectl) 
happy ; and taking a little paper out of her pocket she put 
it in his hand. “ We found that hidden in Jacqueline 
Japha’s breast, when we went to lay her out for burial. 

It was only a line; but it made Mr. Sylvester’s brow 
flush and his voice tremble. 

“ Whatever I own, and I have been told that I am far 
from penniless, I desire to have given to the dear and dis- 
interested girl that first told me of Margery Hamlin’s vigil.” 

“ Paula, Paula, Paula, thou art indeed my good gift ! 
May God make me worthy of your love and of this His last 
and most unexpected mercy ! ” 

And the look which crossed her face, was that sweet and 
unearthly raliance which speaks of perfect peace. 


Damocles, one of the courtiers of Dionysius, was perpetually extolling 
with rapture that tyrant's treasures, grandeur, the number of his troops, 
the extent of his dominions, the magnificence of his palaces, and the uni- 
versal abundance of all good things and enjoyments in his possession ; 
always repeating, that never man was happier than Dionysius. “ Since 
you are of that opinion,” said the tyrant to him one day, “ will you taste 
and make proof of my felicity in person ? ” The offer was accepted with 
joy ; Damocles was placed upon a golden couch, covered with carpets 
richly embroidered. The side-boards were loaded with vessels of gold 
and silver. The most beautiful slaves in the most splendid habits stood 
around, ready to serve him at the slightest signal. The most exquisite 
essences and perfumes had not been spared. The table was spread with 
proportionate magnificence. Damocles was all joy, and looked upon 
himself as the happiest man in the world ; when unfortunately casting up 
his eyes, he beheld over his head the point of a sword, which hung from 
the roof only by c single horse-hair. 


Rollin. 















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I.— THE LEAVENWORTH CASE. A Lawyer’s Story. 
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“ * The Sword of Damocles ’ is a book of great power, which far 
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adroitly. ... In the delineation of characters she has shown 
both delicacy and vigor.” — Congregationalist. 

IV. — X. Y. Z. : A DETECTIVE STORY. 16 0 , paper, 

25 cents 

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She is a perfect genius in the construction of a plot.” — N. Y . Com- 
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“ It is a tribute to the author’s genius that she never tires and never 
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VI.— A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE. 16 0 , paper, 50 
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“ A most ingenious and absorbingly interesting story. The readers 
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IX.— THE OLD STONE HOUSE, AND OTHER 
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32 0 , limp cloth 50 cents 

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XIV. — DR. IZARD. 16 0 , paper, 50 cents; cloth . . $1 00 

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12° .... $1.50 

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that certain qualities in Mrs. Antrobus recall George Eliot ; but seriously 
in pages such as those which describe the scene of the confession, we are 
not at all sure that the new writer is not distinctly at certain moments on 
the great forerunner’s level.’ — Outlook. 

‘A welcome oasis in the desert of fiction. . . . The setting is 
excellent, the Lancashire rustics are delightful.’ — London Spectator. 

1 From beginning to end . . . one realises with gratitude that a 

novelist of no small power is giving us of her best. We can recommend 
this book with an unusual certainty of pleasing.’ — Literature. 


WILDERSMOOR 

12° .... $1.50 

‘An excellent story, laid in an interesting, rarely-described part of 
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merely pictures with hard photographic accuracy but a sense of the firma- 
ment above and the nether regions below the dwellers near Wildersmoor 
Pike.’ — London Times. 

‘A good novel ; perhaps we should rather say a good book. For it is 
its excellent workmanship, its shrewd and often thoughtful remarks, its 
group of characters rather than any one particular person . . . that 

interests us.’ — Standard. 

‘The “sombre genius of the moor” — to borrow the writer’s own 
phrase— is brought home by many happy touches, and the Lancashire 
dialect is handled with considerable effect. The rustic characters, again, 
are well drawn.’ — Athenceum. 

‘The character-drawing is exceptionally good. . . . Mrs. Antrobus 
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Patricia of the Hills 

By Charles Kennett Burrow. 

12 °. (By mail, $1.10.) Net .... $1.00 

“ Patriotism without unreasonableness ; love of the open air and the 
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short of excess ; a story full of sincere feeling.” — The Nation. 

“ No more charming romance of the old sod has been published in a 
long time.” — N. Y. World. 

44 A very pretty Irish story.” — N. Y. Tribune. 


Eve Triumphant 

By Pierre de Coulevain. Translated by Alys H allard. 
12°. (By mail, $1.35.) Net .... $1.20 

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Monsieur Martin 

A Romance of the Great Swedish War. By Wymond Carey. 
12 0 . (By mail, $1.35.) Net .... $1.20 

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4 Monsieur Martin ’ is one of the best of recent historical romances.” — 
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44 Mr. Wymond Carey has given us much pleasure in reading 
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